BIOLOGY 
R 
G 


HAVVK    OWL. 


OUR     BIRDS 


IN 


THEIR     HAUNTS: 


A  POPULAR  TREATISE  ON  THE  BIRDS  OF 
EASTERN   NORTH  AMERICA. 


BY 


REV.  J.  HIBBERT   LANGILLE,  M.  A. 


How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 
Flitting  about  in  each  leafy  tree; 
In  the  leafy  trees,  so  broad  and  tall, 
Like  a  green  and  beautiful  palace  hall, 
With  its  airy  chambers,  light  and  boon, 
That  open  to  sun  and  stars  and  moon, 
That  open  into  the  bright  blue  sky, 
And  the  frolicsome  winds  as  they  wander  by." 

MARY  HOWITT. 


BOSTON: 
S.    E.    CASSINO    &    COMPANY. 

1884. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1884, 

BY  J.   H.   LANGILLE, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


To  DR.  ELLIOTT  COUES, 

WHOSE    PRINTED    WORKS,    PRIVATE    CORRESPONDENCE 

AND 

GREAT  PERSONAL  KINDNESS, 

/ 

HAVE    BEEN    OF    INESTIMABLE   VALUE   TO    ANY    SUCCESS 
POSSIBLE  FOR  THIS  BOOK, 

IT  IS 

GRATEFULLY    AND    AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED    BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


382690 


PREFACE. 


HPHE  first  aim  of  this  work  is  to  render  as  popular  and 
attractive  as  possible,  as  well  as  to  bring  within  a 
small  compass,  the  sum  total  of  the  bird-life  of  Eastern 
North  America.  I  have  therefore  given  brief  descriptions, 
and  for  the  most  part  full  life  histories,  of  all  the  species 
commonly  east  of  the  Mississippi,  giving  special  attention 
to  the  songs  and  nesting,  and  dwelling  upon  the  curious 
and  fascinating,  of  which  there  is  so  much  in  the  lives  of 
these  wonderful  creatures.  The  narrative  follows,  in  the 
main,  the  order  of  the  seasons,  and  groups  itself  about 
certain  interesting  localities,  as  Niagara  River  and  St.  Clair 
Flats,  for  instance.  I  give  a  good  deal  of  attention  to 
migration,  instinct,  the  analogy  of  nidification,  the  special- 
ized forms  and  adaptations  of  structure  in  birds,  etc., 
endeavoring  particularly  to  make  all  this  readable.  Par- 
ticularly do  I  note  the  many  evidences  of  a  Designing 
Intelligence  in  this  department  of  nature.  Hence  the 


»^   V      .^    •»      T!  ^  "1         "       +' 

6  PREFACE. 

author  addresses  himself  especially  to  men  of  his  own 
profession  —  the  gospel  ministry;  and  would  earnestly  urge 
them  to  become,  as  far  as  possible,  the  interpreters  of 
nature  as  well  as  of  the  written  word.  Thus  may  they  come 
most  fully  into  sympathy  with  the  Great  Teacher,  who 
pointed  to  the  "  fowls  of  the  air  "  and  the  "  lilies  of  the 
field  "  as  the  most  instructive  object-lessons  of  a  practical 
faith.  Let  the  pastor  go  with  the  little  ones  of  his  flock 
to  see  the  nest  of  the  Oriole  in  the  orchard,  or  of  the 
Pewee  under  the  bridge;  and  he  will  not  only  go  to  the 
orchard  and  to  the  bridge,  but  he  will  find  his  way  into 
the  little  heart.  If  he  cannot  become  a  naturalist,  he 
may  acquire,  at  least,  a  general  intelligence  of  natural 
objects,  thus  finding  many  hours  of  healthful  and  happy 
recreation,  furnishing  his  own  mind  with  food  for  thought, 
and  discovering  ready  avenues  to  other  minds.  In  this 
day  of  almost  universal  thirst  for  natural  science,  the 
minister  can  ill  afford  to  be  ignorant  of  the  natural  world 
around  him.  Happy,  indeed,  will  it  be  for  his  ministry 
if,  instead  of  leaving  the  interpretation  of  nature  to  the 
ungodly  and  the  atheistic,  he  may  show  to  the  people 
the  thoughts  of  an  infinitely  wise  and  good  Creator 
embodied  in  the  universe.  What  is  said  to  the  preacher 
on  this  topic  may  apply  also  to  the  Sunday  School  teacher, 
and,  indeed,  should  apply  to  the  secular  teacher  of  every 
grade. 


PREFACE.  7 

The  farmers  of  our  country  are,  for  the  most  part,  a 
very  intelligent  class,  as  the  writer  well  knows  from  per- 
sonal intercourse  with  them.  Many  of  them  might,  and 
should  be,  amateur  naturalists.  This  would  turn  many 
an  hour  of  field -labor  into  a  recreation,  and  could  not 
fail  to  be  an  important  aid  in  the  education  of  their 
families.  A.  popular  book,  giving  a  pleasing  account  of 
the  habits  and  characters  of  the  birds  of  the  garden, 
the  orchard,  the  field  and  the  forest,  would  be  a  work  of 
frequent  reference,  and  might  afford  many  an  hour  of 
leisurely  reading  in  connection  with  more  or  less  obser- 
vation, and  thus  would  be  a  constant  source  of  pleasure 
and  profit. 

In  short,  I  have  tried  to  meet  a  wide  demand  never 
yet  met  in  this  country  —  to  have  a  book  on  birds  for  every- 
body. I  write  almost  entirely  from  personal  observation, 
incorporating  in  my  work  a  full  report  for  Western  New 
York  and  the  adjoining  regions  of  the  Great  Lakes,  and 
a  pretty  full  report  for  Nova  Scotia;  also  a  good  deal  of 
direct  information  from  Hudson's  Bay,  by  means  of  an 
excellent  correspondent.  This  last  feature  of  original 
investigation  should  specially  commend  the  work  to  the 
scientist. 

I  would  here  acknowledge  the  cordial  aid  received 
through  correspondence  with  a  large  circle  of  naturalists 
and  amateurs,  whose  names  appear  in  different  parts  of 


8  PREFACE. 

the  work  ;  and  also  the  great  personal  kindness  in  the 
way  of  friendly  entertainment,  on  the  part  of  a  large 
circle  of  friends,  during  many  years  of  travel  and  inves- 
tigation over  different  parts  of  the  field  under  review. 

The  illustrations,  which  should  add  much  to  the  character 
of  the  book,  have  been  nearly  all  furnished  by  Dr.  Coues, 
whose  scientific  nomenclature,  as  given  in  his  former  works, 
I  have  adopted  throughout.  On  this  subject,  now  so  much 
in  distress,  I  claim  no  authority;  and  those  wishing  the 
check-list  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution  can  easily  procure 

it. 

J.  H.  LANGILLE. 

June  26th,  1884. 

BUFFALO,  N.  Y. 


CHAPTER    I. 
• 

HOAR-FROST. 

IT  was  early  winter.  The  ground  was  covered  with  snow, 
but  the  atmosphere  had  been  laden  with  a  dense  falling 
mist.  The  temperature  falling  below  the  freezing  point, 
throughout  the  night  a  zephyr-like  wind  from  the  north- 
east continued  to  crystallize  the  moisture  on  every  object, 
arraying  the  landscape  in  a  most  magnificent  hoar-frost. 
The  delicate  plumose  or  spinulose  ornaments  increased  every 
twig  and  spear  of  grass  to  many  times  its  size.  The  spray  of 
trees  and  shrubs  seemed  almost  as  dense  as  when  arrayed  in 
a  young  foliage;  telegraph  wires  were  as  thick  as  cables; 
and  the  delicate  array  of  spinulose  plumes  on  the  evergreens 
was  of  greater  magnitude  than  their  own  dark  covering. 
The  exquisite  delicacy  and  beauty  of  the  patterns  of  crystal- 
lization were  indescribable.  The  whole  landscape  was  a 
charming  fairy-land.  The  genius  of  a  Greek  mind  might 
well  have  conceived  that  all  the  hosts  of  rural  and  sylvan 
deities  had  been  at  work;  while,  in  this  inimitable  robe  of 
snow-white  purity,  the  Christian  theist  might  read  the 
thoughts  of  Him  who  is  the  Author  of  the  beautiful,  as  well 
as  of  the  true  and  the  good. 


10  THE  HORNED  LARK. 

THE    HORNED    LARK. 

In  the  dead  calm  every  object  was  motionless.  Perfect 
stillness  reigned.  The  slightest  sound  was  awakening. 
What  could  be  more  pleasing  to  the  lover  of  nature  at  such 
a  time  than  the  graceful  flight  and  the  musical  notes  of 
birds  ?  Ever  and  anon,  small,  loose  flocks  of  Horned  Larks 
(Eremophila  alpestris)  appeared,  alighting  in  the  fields  and 
along  the  highway;  and  they  seemed  as  social  and  happy  as 
so  many  Frenchmen,  as  they  flew,  and  ran,  and  squatted, 
and  hopped,  vying  with  each  other  in  their  soft  conversa- 
tional tseep)  tseepes. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  characteristic  birds  of  Western 
New  York.  In  Orleans  County,  and  westward,  throughout 
the  year,  unless  it  be  in  December,  there  is  none  which  one 
is  more  liable  to  meet.  Though  in  much  smaller  flocks,  it 
may  as  frequently  appear  in  the  snow-storm  as  the  Snow 
Bunting,  and  is  much  more  common  in  the  finer  weather  of 
midwinter  than  the  Goldfinch  or  the  Lesser  Redpoll.  From 
the  frozen  fields  or  the  frost-clod  fence  it  greets  us  with  its 
song  already  in  early  February,  several  weeks  before  we 
hear  the  soft  warble  of  the  Bluebird,  or  the  resonant  notes 
of  the  Song  Sparrow,  and  so  gives  us  the  first  bird-song  of 
the  year.  When  the  earth  is  soaked  and  the  air  is  chilled  from 
the  thaws  of  spring,  it  is  as  merry  and  chipper  and  full  of 
song  as  ever.  It  is  amidst  the  merry  throngs  of  May,  trav- 
erses the  heated  dust  of  the  highway  in  July  and  August, 
and  in  the  mild,  hazy  days  of  Indian  summer,  gives  forth  a 
respectable  echo  of  its  more  vigorous  song  of  the  breeding 
season.  Until  very  recently  the  breeding  habitat  of  this 
species  has  been  wholly  consigned  to  the  far  north;  but  it  is 
now  well  understood  that  it  breeds  abundantly  in  the  lake 
counties  of  Western  New  York,  and  more  or  less  to  the 
eastward  as  far  as  Troy,  raising  two  broods,  the  first  being 


THE  HORNED  LARK.  11 

very  early.  Rev.  Wm.  Elgin,  of  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  a  com- 
petent observer,  writes  to  me  as  follows: — "On  the  28th  of 
April,  1875,  I  discovered  in  the  Park,  near  the  lake  at  Buffalo, 
the  nest  of  a  pair  of  Horned  Larks,  containing  four  young 
birds  which  I  took  to  be  at  least  eight  days  old.  I  had 
observed  the  parent  birds  in  that  locality  early  in  the 
month,  and  had  been  watching  their  movements  ever  since, 
being  convinced  from  their  actions,  when  first  noticed,  that 
they  were  nesting.  But  my  search  was  not  rewarded  till 
the  day  above  named.  When  the  parent  birds  were  first 
seen,  the  ground  was  bare,  but  about  the  10th  there  fell 
several  inches  of  snow,  which  lay  on  the  ground  several 
days,  during  which  time  the  temperature  frequently  fell 
almost  to  zero.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  seemed  to 
me  a  marvel  that  any  of  the  eggs  hatched,  since  the  bird 
must  have  been  sitting  while  the  ground  —  and  in  fact  her- 
self—  was  covered  with  snow.  Yet  the  nest  was  admirably 
contrived  for  this  weather,  being  placed  in  a  small  basin 
scooped  out  of  the  level  ground,  and  carefully  lined  with 
fine  dried  grass,  the  top  being  on  a  level  with  the  surface. 
Such  a  case  of  nidification  certainly  argues  a  marked 
degree  of  hardihood  in  the  species.  Another  circumstance, 
which  fell  under  my  observation,  would  tend  also  to  con- 
firm this  opinion.  On  the  7th  of  April,  1878,  near  the 
village  of  Wayne,  Steuben  County,  I  observed  a  female 
Horned  Lark  feeding  a  pair  of  young  in  the  road;  the 
young  being  so  far  matured  as  to  be  able  to  fly  from  the 
road  to  the  fence,  a  distance  of  fully  three  rods.  In  this 
case  the  nest  must  have  been  begun  early  in  March." 

These  instances  accord  with  the  nests  reported  as  found 
near  Racine,  Wisconsin,  while  the  snow  was  on  the  ground. 

On  the  6th  of  April,  1880,  as  I  was  crossing  a  meadow  a 
few  days  after  a  snow-fall  of  some  three  or  four  inches,  a 


12  THE  HORNED  LARK. 

female  Horned  Lark  flew  out  from  under  the  snow  near  my 
feet.  Thrusting  my  finger  carefully  through  the  cold  cov- 
ering, I  touched  the  eggs,  still  warm;  and  picking  out  care- 
fully the  snow  which  had  fallen  into  the  nest  as  the  bird 
left  it,  I  found  four  eggs  about  half  incubated.  Who  would 
not  be  impressed  with  the  fidelity  of  this  bird  to  her  charge, 
thus  allowing  herself  to  be  snowed  over,  and  continuing  to 
sit,  as  she  no  doubt  would  have  done,  till  she  thawed  out 
again  ? 

The  second  set  of  eggs  is  laid  in  June.  The  full  fledged 
young  are  of  a  mottled  gray  color,  somewhat  like  the  first 
plumage  of  young  Screech  Owls.  The  nest  is  made  of 
stubble,  rootlets,  and  dried  grasses,  sometimes  having  a  little 
wool  or  horse-hair  in  the  lining.  It  is  well  sunken  into  the 
ground,  and  is  generally  a  frail,  loose  and  inartistic  struct- 
ure. The  eggs,  commonly  four,  about  .88  x  .62,  are  gray- 
ish-white, thickly  speckled  all  over  with  greenish-brown, 
having  a  similar  under-marking  of  pale  lilac  or  purplish- 
brown.  They  cannot  be  easily  mistaken  for  any  other  eggs 
in  this  locality. 

Mr.  James  Booth,  of  Drummondville,  Ontario,  for  over 
thirty  years  a  distinguished  taxidermist  for  Niagara  Falls, 
Buffalo,  and  the  region  round  about,  says  that  the  Horned 
Larks  did  not  breed  here  formerly;  that  this  southern  ex- 
tension of  their  breeding  habitat  is  a  recent  and  noticeable 
change.  With  this  corresponds  the  testimony  of  Mr.  T. 
Mcllwraith,  of  Hamilton,  Ont. 

Audubon  found  the  nests  of  this  species  common  on  the 
moss-clad  coasts  of  Labrador.  Mr.  James  Fortiscue,  an 
excellent  correspondent  of  mine,  who  is  chief  factor  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company  at  York  Factory,  reports  it  as  a 
summer  resident  about  Hudson's  Bay,  building  its  nest  "  in 
grass  along  the  coast." 


THE  HORNED  LARK.  13 

The  species  has  been  known  to  breed  in  Canada  West,  in 
southern  Iowa,  Indiana,  and  in  the  northwest  generally,  while 
one  variety  is  known  to  breed  in  New  Mexico.  This  latter 
variety  is  said  to  be  smaller  and  brighter  colored  than  the 
common  type,  while  that  of  the  northwest  is  larger  and 
lighter  in  color.  As  one  approaches  the  Atlantic  States, 
the  Horned  Lark  is  irregularly  migratory  in  large  flocks; 
this  common  type  being  in  no  respect  different  from  its 
European  representative. 

Ordinarily  the  Horned  Lark  is  strictly  terrestrial.  When 
alighted  it  is  most  commonly  seen  resting  on  the  ground 
or  walking;  it  is  a  great  walker,  maintaining  its  center  of 
gravity  by  a  graceful,  dove-like  motion  of  the  head.  Seldom, 
if  ever,  is  it  seen  in  a  tree,  aspiring,  when  at  rest,  merely  to 
the  top  rail  of  the  fence.  It  has  one  trick,  however,  stfangely 
in  contrast  with  its  ordinary  lowliness,  and  which  once 
greatly  perplexed  me.  It  was  a  sunny  afternoon,  late  in 
May.  Hearing  its  song,  now  quite  familiar  to  me,  I  strolled 
warily  through  the  open  field,  hoping  to  find  its  nest.  But 
whence  came  the  song?  It  was  as  puzzling  as  the  voice  of 
a  ventriloquist.  Now  it  seemed  on  the  right,  and  now  on 
the  left,  and  now  in  some  other  direction.  Presently  I 
caught  the  way  of  the  sound,  and  lo !  its  author  was  soaring 
high  in  air,  moving  in  short  curves  up,  up,  singing  for  a  few 
moments  as  it  sailed  with  expanded  wings  before  each 
flitting  curve  upward,  till  it  became  a  mere  speck  in  the 
zenith,  and  finally  I  could  scarcely  tell  whether  I  saw  it 
or  not.  But  I  still  heard  the  song,  one  that  never  can  be 
mistaken,  so  unlike  is  it  to  that  of  any  other  bird.  At  first 
one  is  at  a  loss  whether  to  be  pleased  with  it,  and  is 
tempted  to  compare  it  to  the  screaking  of  an  ungreased 
wheelbarrow.  "  Quit,  quit,  quit,  you  silly  rig  and  get  away"  it 
seems  to  say:  the  first  three  or  four  syllables  being  slowly 


14  THE  HORNED  LARK. 

and  distinctly  uttered,  and  the  rest  somewhat  hurriedly  run 
together.  However,  like  the  faces  and  voices  of  certain 
people,  this  ditty  sweetens  on  acquaintance,  and  finally  be- 
comes a  real  source  of  pleasure. 

But  I  must  not  be  diverting.  I  am  still  looking  into  the 
deep  blue,  when  the  black  speck  unmistakably  reappears, 
and  gradually  enlarges  as  the  bird  approaches.  Down, 
down  it  comes,  meteor-like,  with  wings  almost  closed,  until 
one  fears  it  will  dash  out  its  life  on  the  earth.  But  no, 
it  alights  in  safety,  and  steps  along  with  all  its  wonted 
stateliness,  dividing  the  time  between  its  luncheon  and  its 
song.  Many  a  time  since,  and  sometimes  as  early  as  the  last 
days  of  February,  I  have  witnessed  the  same  maneuver, 
and  always  with  renewed  pleasure.  So  Bayard  Taylor  is 
not  mistaken  after  all,  when,  in  his  "  Spring  Pastoral,"  he 
speaks  of 

"  Larks  responding  aloft  to  the  mellow  flute  of  the  Bluebird." 

And  though  the  song  of  our  bird  can  bear  no  comparison 
to  the  astounding  song-flights  of  the  European  Skylark, 
their  similarity  of  manner  indicates  the  relationship  of  the 
two  species. 

In  the  northwest,  on  the  prairies  about  the  Upper  Missouri 
and  its  tributaries,  is  the  Missouri  Skylark,  so  admirably 
described  by  Dr.  Coues,  and  which,  in  its  lofty  flight  and 
great  powers  of  song,  seems  scarcely  if  at  all  second  to  the 
famous  bird  of  the  Old  World. 

The  Horned  Lark  is  7  —  7.50  inches  long,  somewhat  larger 
than  our  ordinary-sized  sparrow,  its  shape  being  about  as 
peculiar  as  its  voice.  The  bill  is  rather  long  for  a  song- 
bird, quite  pointed,  and  a  little  curved;  on  its  head  are  two 
tufts  of  erectile  black  feathers,  from  which  it  receives  part 
of  its  common  name.  As  in  the  case  of  other  larks,  but 
unlike  the  rest  of  the  song  birds,  the  scales  of  the  leg  extend 


THE  LESSER  REDPOLL.  15 

around  behind;  and  its  hind  claw  is  very  long  and  straight. 
This  lark  is  always  in  a  squatting  position,  with  drooping 
tail  when  at  rest.  With  a  long,  black  patch  on  each  cheek, 
a  somewhat  triangular  black  spot  on  the  upper  part  of  the 
breast,  reddish  light-brown  above  and  dull  white  beneath, 
with  yellow  throat,  long  pointed  wings  tipped  with  black, 
and  a  tail  of 'the  same  color,  a  peculiar  undulating  flight 
often  accompanied  with  a  soft  tseep  or  tseepes,  whether  sitting, 
walking,  or  flying,  this  bird  readily  appeals  to  the  eye  of  the 
observer.  It  was  formerly  placed  in  the  Fringillidce  family 
among  the  sparrows  and  their  relatives,  but  now  stands  with 
a  Lark  family,  formed  by  later  ornithologists.  In  the  main, 
it  is  a  seed-eating  species,  but  also  subsists  largely  on  in- 
sects. 

THE    LESSER    REDPOLL. 

On  this  same  day  of  indescribably  beautiful  hoar-frost  my 
garden  was  visited  by  an  immense  flock  of  birds,  common 
throughout  New  England  and  the  Middle  States  during 
winter,  but  resident  in  the  more  northern  climes  in  summer. 
They  came  in  a  cloud,  the  graceful  curves  of  their  undulating 
flight  intersecting  each  other  at  all  angles,  while  here  and 
there  one  seemed  to  be  describing  unusually  long,  sweeping 
curves  amidst  the  dense  moving  mass,  as  if  throwing  out  a 
challenge  to  its  more  moderate  companions.  Cree-cree-cree- 
cree,  skree-shree-shree-shree,  coming  in  soft,  lisping  voices  from 
hundreds  of  little  throats,  at  once  swells  into  a  grand  volume 
of  sound,  which  indicates  that  nearly  all  are  taking  part  in 
the  animated  conversation.  They  alight  indiscriminately 
on  trees,  shrubs,  and  weeds,  and  also  on  the  ground,  and 
begin  their  search  for  food.  Taking  alarm  readily,  they 
resort  to  the  leafless  tree-tops  in  the  vicinity,  or,  rising  high, 
they  leave  the  spot.  This  is  decidedly  our  most  beauti- 
ful bird  of  the  winter.  About  the  size  of  a  canary,  5-5.50 


16  THE  LESSER  REDPOLL. 

and  8.50  in  extent,  the  general  color  of  the  upper  parts  is 
a  rich  dark  brown,  every  feather  being  delicately  fringed 
with  grayish  white;  around  the  base  of  the  bill  and  extend- 
ing down  the  throat  is  a  band  of  dusky  black;  the  top  of  the 
head  is  bright  glossy  crimson;  on  the  lower  part  of  the 
back,  where  the  feathers  are  so  deeply  fringed  with  white 
that  the  brown  almost  disappears,  there  is  a  slight  touch  of 
carmine;  and  in  the  mature  male  the  breast  and  under  parts, 
which  are  ordinarily  white  streaked  with  brown  on  the  sides, 
are  finely  tinged  with  rose-color.  How  these  delicate  tints 
of  rose  and  carmine  set  off  the  winter  landscape,  appearing 
as  gay  as  peach-blossoms  in  the  leafless  brown  of  early 
spring.  Redpoll  is  a  member  of  the  same  family  with  the 
sparrows  (the  Fringillida).  From  its  noticeable  resemblance 
to  them  and  its  delicately-tinted  breast,  it  is  sometimes 
called  the  Rose-breasted  Sparrow,  but  is  commonly  known 
as  the  Lesser  Redpoll.  Dr.  Coues  gives  the  habitat  of  the 
Redpoll  (/Egiothus  linaria),  "From  Atlantic  to  Pacific, 
ranging  irregularly  southward  in  flocks  in  winter,  to  the 
Middle  States  (sometimes  a  little  beyond)  and  corresponding 
latitudes  in  the  west."  As  to  its  breeding,  he  cites  Audu- 
bon,  who  says  that  it  breeds  "in  Maine,  Nova  Scotia,  New- 
foundland, Labrador  and  the  fur  countries."  The  latter 
also  describes  the  eggs  as  from  four  to  six  in  number, 
measuring  five-eighths  of  an  inch  in  length,  rather  more  than 
half  an  inch  in  diameter,  and  pale  bluish-green  in  color, 
sparingly  dotted  with  reddish-brown  toward  the  larger  end. 
Mr.  C.  O.  Tracy,  of  Taftsville,  Vt.,  says  in  the  Ornithol- 
ogist and  Oologist,  June,  1883:  "The  last  of  March,  1878,  I 
found  the  nest  and  eggs  of  this  species.  The  nest,  now 
before  me,  is  composed  of  fine,  dry  twigs,  dried  grasses, 
fine  strips  of  fibrous  bark,  bits  of  twine,  hair,  fibrous  roots, 
moss,  dried  leaves,  pieces  of  cocoons,  feathers,  thistle-down, 


THE    CHICKADEE.  17 

and  other  material,  which  are  neatly  woven  together  into  a 
compact  structure  and  lined  with  hair.  It  was  placed  very 
loosely  among  the  top  branches  of  a  small  spruce,  about  six 
feet  from  the  ground,  and  contained  three  fresh  eggs  of  a 
very  pale  bluish-green  color,  sparingly  marked  with  spots 
and  splashes  of  different  shades  of  brown  at  the  larger  end. 
Dimensions,  72  X  48,  72  X  47,  71  X  48." 

I  once  saw  several  of  these  birds  which  Mr.  Bing  of 
Rochester  had  trapped  and  trained.  One  had  a  soft  belt 
around  his  body,  under  his  wings,  to  which  was  fastened  a 
small  chain  and  a  bucket  about  as  big  as  a  thimble,  with 
which  he  drew  water  out  of  a  deep  dish,  and  drank. 
Another  had  a  tiny  car  on  a  platform  outside  the  cage;  and 
as  this  little  vehicle  was  fastened  to  the  inside  of  the  cage 
by  a  chain  and  contained  his  food,  he  would  draw  it  in 
whenever  he  wished  a  repast.  Even  after  witnessing  all 
this,  I  felt  that,  to  me,  the  bird  was  but  a  stranger,  for  I 
had  never  heard  its  song  nor  seen  its  nest.  A  closely  allied 
species  or  variety  is  found  in  Europe.  The  so-called  Mealy 
Redpoll  may  be  regarded  as  a  paler  variety  of  the  common 
Redpoll  —  an  Arctic  race,  not  difficult  to  recognize,  repre- 
senting in  America  the  true  Mealy  Redpoll  (A.  canescens) 
of  Greenland.  The  broad,  whitish  fringe  of  the  plumage, 
the  elegant  rose-white  rump,  and  the  pale,  rosy  breast  give 
a  peculiar  delicate  beauty  to  this  variety. 

THE    CHICKADEE. 

I  have  finished  my  morning  ramble,  and  am  fairly  seated  in 
my  study,  when  lo  !  a  familiar  voice  calls  me  to  the  window. 
Chickadee -dee-dee,  chick,  chick,  chickadee, .  chickadee-dee-dee-dee  ; 
most  cheerful  and  winning  voice  of  a  winter's  day  !  There 
they  are,  little  Black-capped  Titmice  or  Chickadees,  finding 
a  satisfactory  repast  in  those  frosted  evergreens,  where  my 


18  THE   CHICKADEE. 

eyes  can  detect  nothing  of  the  kind;  standing  upright, 
tipping  forward,  stretching  upward,  leaning  to  right  and 
left,  or  hanging  by  the  feet ;  so  brimful  of  contentment, 
so  sweet-spirited  and  confiding,  with  so  much  of  the  sun- 
shine of  hope  in  their  voices,  that  they  are  a  most  signifi- 
cant reproof  to  querulous,  unsatisfied  human  nature. 

Those  above  given  are  far  from  being  the  only  notes  of 
the  Black-capped  Chickadee  (Parus  atricapillus],  if  they 
have  christened  him.  They  seem  to  be  especially  his  win- 
ter song,  whether  he  be  in  the  door-yard,  in  the  deep 
forest,  or  in  the  crowded  town;  and  the  same  vocal  per- 
formance can  hardly  be  said  to  characterize  him  in  summer, 
though  it  is  then  occasionally  heard.  Throughout  the  year, 
but  especially  in  the  breeding  season,  he  has  many  quaint 
little  notes,  sounding  very  much  like  subdued  and  familiar 
conversation.  Tse-de-yay,  tse-de-yay;  tsip,  tsip;  and  a  soft, 
almost  indescribable,  peep,  peep,  are  among  his  common 
utterances  in  secluded  parts  of  the  deep  forest.  How 
much  of  the  happy,  inner  life  of  these  little  creatures  may 
be  communicated  in  these  soft,  musical  phrases  !  But  that 
which  pre-eminently  constitutes  the  song  of  the  Chickadee 
is  a  soft,  elfin  whistle  of  two  notes,  heard  occasionally  even 
in  midwinter,  but  most  commonly  in  the  breeding  season 
—  Whee-hee.  The  former  syllable  is  in  the  rising  and  the 
latter  in  the  falling  inflection;  the  whole  being  uttered  in  a 
soft,  plaintive,  tremulous,  melting  tone,  which  almost  re- 
strains one's  breath  while  listening.  It  is  the  voice  of 
pathethic  tenderness,  and  makes  one  feel  how  much  of 
conscious  life  may  vibrate  in  the  breast  of  a  tiny  bird. 

Long  years  did  I  wait  after  becoming  an  ornithologist 
before  I  could  get  a  glimpse  of  the  nest  of  the  Chickadee. 
On  a  beautiful,  sunny  24th  of  May,  in  a  thicket  of  Tona- 
wanda  Swamp,  while  I  was  studying  the  song  of  the  Black- 


THE    CHICKADEE.  19 

throated  Green  Warbler,  a  Chickadee  dropped  into  the  side 
of  an  old  stump,  just  a  few  feet  before  me.  The  hole 
which  it  entered  was  near  the  top,  about  two  feet  and  a 
half  from  the  ground;  and  as  the  stump  was  mellow,  it 
was  not  many  mmutes  before  I  had  sufficiently  enlarged 
the  passage  with  my  jack-knife  to  get  a  good  view  of  the 
inside.  I  have  often  felt  the  subduing  influence  of  the 
familiar,  trustful  ways  of  this  little  bird,  but  never  did  it 
seem  so  gentle  and  confiding  as  now,  peering  up  at  me  with 
such  a  mingled  look  of  surprise  and  firmness,  which,  to  say 
the  least,  was  very  disconcerting  to  an  oologist.  The  exca- 
vation was  new,  and  evidently  made  by  the  bird  itself.  The 
nest  consisted  of  a  loose  but  well-made  felt  of  moss,  fibres 
of  bark,  down  and  hair.  For  safety  and  softness  few  nests 
could  surpass  it.  The  seven  eggs  were  a  little  smaller  than 
those  of  the  common  Wren,  some  .64  x  .51,  of  a  delicate, 
flesh-tinted  white,  minutely  dotted  with  red,  the  marks 
thickening  and  running  together  at  the  large  end.  In  all 
respects  this  nest  is  representative.  The  nesting  of  any 
bird,  however,  is  subject  to  variation.  Sometimes  the 
Chickadee  makes  its  own  excavation  in  a  green  tree,  and 
sometimes  it  appropriates  the  abandoned  nest  of  the  Downy 
Woodpecker.  It  feeds  especially  on  the  larvae  and  eggs  of 
insects. 

About  the  size  of  a  canary,  some  5-5.25  long,  and  7.75-8.25 
in  extent,  its  bill  is  short,  somewhat  thick,  straight  and 
strong;  its  head  is  large  and  its  neck  short,  body  plump 
and  tail  longish;  it  is  deep,  glossy  black  on  the  head,  down 
the  back  of  the  neck  and  on  the  throat;  cheeks  pure  white; 
upper  parts  dark  drab,  much  lighter  and  yellowish  on  the 
rump;  and  of  the  same  color,  or  somewhat  lighter,  under- 
neath. These  markings  are  strongly  contrasted,  and  render 
the  bird  a  conspicuous  object  at  any  time  of  year;  but  at 


20  THE  PINE   GROSBEAK. 

no  time  is  one  so  forcibly  impressed  with  the  beauty,  as 
also  with  the  familiarity,  of  this  gentle  little  creature  as 
when  meeting  it  in  the  depth  of  the  forest  on  a  bleak  win- 
ter's day.  Then  the  flock  appear  like  bright  and  gracefully 
moving  ornaments  on  the  dark  evergreens  or  leafless  spray. 
Then  this  bird  becomes  the  familiar  companion  of  the  soli- 
tary woodman,  and  will  even  venture  to  light  on  his  arm 
and  take  from  his  hand  the  crumbs  of  his  luncheon. 

The  Chickadee  belongs  to  the  Titmouse  or  Paridcz  family, 
and  has  many  near  relatives,  such  as  the  Mountain  Chicka- 
dee, Chestnut-back  Chickadee,  Long-tailed  Chickadee,  etc., 
which  resemble  it  very  closely.  Our  species  is  a  bird  of  the 
Northeastern  States,  extending  to  Alaska,  replaced  from 
Maryland  and  Illinois  southward  by  the  Carolina  Titmouse, 
which  Mr.  Maynard  regards  as  simply  a  smaller  variety  of 
the  same  species.  About  the  size  of  our  Black-cap,  and  in 
all  respects  similiar  in  habit,  is  the  Hudson's  Bay  Titmouse 
(Parus  hudsonius].  The  jet  black  on  the  crown  of  the 
former  is  replaced  by  an  elegant  brown;  the  pure  white  on 
the  cheeks  by  a  grayish  white;  the  back  and  sides  are  also 
tinged  with  brown;  otherwise,  their  similarity  in  marking  is 
close.  Hudsonius  is  common  to  British  North  America, 
breeding  as  far  south  as  Maine.  I  found  it  very  common 
in  Nova  Scotia.  Its  strongly  characterized  note  cheet-a-day- 
day-day,  cheet-a-day,  uttered  in  a  rather  low  key,  may  always 
distinguish  it. 

THE    PINE    GROSBEAK. 

As  I  go  out  through  the  front  yard  during  the  forenoon,  I 
almost  run  my  head  into  a  flock  of  Pine  Grosbeaks  (Pinicola- 
enucleator))  feeding  eagerly  on  the  berries  of  a  mountain  ash. 
The  hoar-frost  falls  in  a  cloud  as  a  dozen  or  more  of  them 
shake  the  spray  and  the  branches  in  taking  their  food. 
About  8.50  in  length,  this  species  is  very  robust  and  plump,, 


THE  PINE   GROSBEAK.  21 

with  a  short,  thick,  almost  hawk-like  bill,  and  the  tail 
slightly  notched.  The  general  color  of  the  old  male  is 
bright  crimson-red,  the  feathers,  especially  on  the  back, 


THE    PINE   GROSBEAK. 


showing  elegant  centers  of  dusky  ash;  the  lores,  the  sides 
of  the  head  and  body,  and  the  under  tail  coverts,  ashy;  two 
bands  on  the  wing  coverts,  white;  wings  and  tail,  dusky. 
Female  and  young,  ashy,  variously  marked  or  tinged  with 
greenish  yellow  or  light  golden  brown  on  the  crown  and 
rump,  or  even  over  the  back  and  breast.  As  the  male  is  no 
doubt  several  years  in  reaching  his  bright  colors  of  matu- 
rity, nearly  all  the  individuals  visiting  us  in  winter  are 
ashy.  To  the  naturalist  and  artist  the  old  males  are  a  great 
desideratum.  Scarcely  can  the  southern  climes  send  us  a 
more  brilliant  migrant  than  this  casual  visitor  from  the 
north.  Immature  specimens  may  arrive  in  New  England 
and  the  Middle  States,  already  in  the  wake  of  Indian  Sum- 
mer, but  only  in  severe  winters  are  they  common.  Then 
the  flocks  of  10-20  may  contain  quite  a  sprinkling  of  the 


22  THE  DOWNY   WOODPECKER. 

brilliant  old  males,  and  occasionally  this  species  may  extend 
its  winter  flight  as  far  south  as  Maryland,  Ohio,  Illinois  and 
Kansas. 

As  I  fire  into  the  flock  in  the  mountain  ash,  they  scatter 
into  the  surrounding  trees,  loth  to  fly  away,  and  emit  a 
loud  and  prolonged  peenk,  sounding  almost  like  the  note  of 
a  hawk.  Its  song  is  said  to  be  a  pleasing  warble.  It  breeds 
from  northern  Maine  and  the  Maritime  Provinces  north- 
ward, being  common  about  Moose  Factory  on  James'  Bay, 
and  down  the  Rocky  Mountains  into  Colorado.  The  nest, 
placed  in  trees,  is  made  of  sticks  and  grasses,  and  contains 
S-4  eggs,  oval,  about  .97  X  -^2,  "pale  bluish-green  in  color, 
spotted,  dotted,  and  lined  with  brown  and  umber." 

THE   DOWNY    WOODPECKER. 

I  was  never  naturally  fond  of  a  gun.  But  for  the  emer- 
gencies of  natural  history  I  should  never  have  used  much 
powder  and  shot;  but  I  cannot,  like  Thoreau,  become  a  nat- 
uralist without  either  gun  or  trap.  He  must  have  been  on 
remarkably  good  terms  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  woods 
and  the  fields. 

In  the  afternoon  of  this  same  day  of  the  hoar-frost,  I  spied 
a  Downy  Woodpecker  pounding  away  at  a  beautiful  moun- 
tain ash  in  the  front  yard.  Of  course  he  would  not  hurt 
the  tree,  but  I  was  tempted  to  get  the  bird;  so,  notwithstand- 
ing my  poor  marksmanship,  I  started  with  an  old  shot-gun 
to  procure  the  specimen.  As  usual,  the  bird  was  very 
unsuspecting,  and  allowed  me  to  come  quite  near.  I  fired, 
but,  to  my  surprise,  the  bird  flew  to  the  next  tree,  appar- 
ently without  the  least  surprise.  I  loaded  and  fired  again, 
but  without  securing  my  specimen,  and,  it  would  seem, 
without  even  alarming  him.  Again  I  fired,  and  again  and 
again,  and  yet  the  bird  seemed  as  safe  and  self-possessed 


THE  DOWNY    WOODPECKER.  23 

about  the  yard  as  before  the  first  shot.  I  felt  assured  the 
bird's  time  of  departure  was  not  yet  come,  and  so  concluded 
to  do  without  it.  But  as  I  afterward  became  more  success- 
ful with  a  gun,  and  consequently  got  Downy  in  my  hand 
for  a  careful  examination  (and  to  an  ornithologist  a  bird  in 
the  hand  is  worth  a  good  many  in  the  bush),  I  will  give  at 
least  a  brief  account  of  him.  And  first  I  may  say  that,  con- 
cerning all  the  Woodpeckers,  an  account  of  the  habits  of  one 
comes  very  near  being  an  account  of  them  all. 

Concerning  their  nests  Mr.  John  Burroughs  has  well  said: 
"The  Woodpeckers  all  build  in  about  the  same  manner, 
excavating  the  trunk  or  branch  of  a  decayed  tree  and  deposit- 
ing the  eggs  on  the  fine  fragments  of  wood  at  the  bottom  of 
the  cavity.  Though  the  nest  is  not  especially  an  artistic 
work — requiring  strength  rather  than  skill — yet  the  eggs  and 
the  young  of  few  other  birds  are  so  completely  housed  from 
the  elements  —  or  protected  from  their  natural  enemies,  the 
jays,  crows,  hawks  and  owls.  A  tree  with  a  natural  cavity 
is  never  selected,  but  one  which  has  been  dead  just  long 
enough  to  have  become  soft  and  brittle  throughout.*  The 
bird  goes  in  horizontally  for  a  few  inches,  making  a  hole 
perfectly  round  and  smooth  and  adapted  to  his  size,  then 
turns  downward,  gradually  enlarging  the  hole,  as  he  pro- 
ceeds,  to  the  depth  of  ten,  fifteen,  twenty  inches,  according 
to  the  softness  of  the  tree  and  the  urgency  of  the  mother- 
bird  to  deposit  her  eggs.  While  excavating,  male  and  female 
work  alternately.  After  one  has  been  engaged  fifteen  or 
twenty  minutes,  drilling  and  carrying  out  chips,  it  ascends 
to  an  upper  limb,  utters  a  loud  call  or  two,  when  its  mate 
soon  appears,  and,  alighting  near  it  on  the  branch,  the  pair 
chatter  and  caress  a  moment,  then  the  fresh  one  enters  the 
cavity,  and  the  other  flies  away." 

*  Living  trees  of  the  softer  kind  are  often  eligible. 


24  THE  DOWNY    WOODPECKER. 

In  these  same  cavities  they  continue  to  take  lodgings  by 
night,  or  take  refuge  in  bad  weather,  thus  making  these,  as 
well  as  natural  cavities  in  trees  and  stubs,  places  of  conven- 
ient shelter. 

The  strongly  characterized  eggs  of  the  Woodpeckers,  with 
smooth,  glossy,  translucent  shell,  and  of  the  purest  white, 
are  very  gems  in  oology.  Are  they  white  in  order  that  the 
bird  may  readily  see  them  as  it  enters  its  dusky  chamber? 
What  a  Spartan-like  bed  are  those  few  chips  on  which  the 
young  are  reared!  Indeed,  everything  about  the  Wood- 
pecker indicates  hardihood  and  industry.  He  is  a  moral 
object-lesson  to  the  self-indulgent  and  indolent. 

As  Wilson  has  truly  suggested — having  no  vocal  power  to 
charm  —  the  Woodpeckers  occupy  the  honorable  position  of 
carpenters  among  the  birds.*  For  this  purpose  their  struct- 
ure is  most  admirably  adapted.  Held  in  position  by  means 
of  large,  strong  feet,  having  two  toes  turned  forward  and 
two  backward,  and  by  a  tail  having  every  feather  stiff  and 
pointed;  with  a  strong,  chisel-shaped  bill,  skull-bones  of 
unusual  size  and  strength,  and  a  neck  which  works  like  a 
lever,  they  can  do  marvelous  execution.  The  tongue— 
elastic,  barbed,  viscid,  and  the  back  part  or  hyoid  bone 
being  coiled  up  like  the  mainspring  of  a  watch,  and  in 
every  way  adapted  to  the  seizure  of  insects — was  well  chosen 
by  Paley  as  a  striking  evidence  of  design  in  creation.  And 
the  ornithologist,  observing  how  the  bird  chooses  the  dead 
trees  and  those  dying  from  the  destructive  effect  of  insects 
as  the  objects  of  its  workmanship,  will  readily  confirm,  from 
the  study  of  habit,  what  the  anatomist  infers  from  structure. 

Closing  the  wings  and  gliding  through  the  air  after  sev- 
eral vigorous  strokes,  the  flight  of  the  Woodpeckers  is  undu- 
lating; and,  just  before  lighting,  they  glide  upwards  a  few 

*  Carpentero   is  the  ordinary  name  of  the  Woodpecker  among  the  Mexicans. 


THE'  DOWNY    WOODPECKER.  25 

feet  to  check  their  direct  momentum.  Clinging  to  the  bark 
of  the  trunk  or  larger  limbs  of  the  trees  with  their  sharp, 
hooked  claws,  and  using  the  peculiar  feathers  of  the  tail  as 
a  support,  they  hop  upward  or  sidewise,  or  drop  backward, 
but  do  not  move  with  the  head  downward,  after  the  manner 
of  the  Nuthatches.  They  often  take  insects  on  the  wing, 
and  relish  the  smaller  fruits;  but  their  principal  fare  consists 
of  insects  and  their  eggs  and  larvae  as  found  in  the  bark  or 
crevices,  or  as  excavated  and  drawn  out  from  decaying  or 
damaged  trees. 

Now,  from  the  general  to  the  particular.  The  Downy 
Woodpecker  (Picus  pubescent],  6.75  and  12.00  in  extent,  is  the 
dwarf  of  his  family,  and,  in  color  and  marking,  is  almost  pre- 
cisely like  his  nearest  relative,  the  Hairy  Woodpecker.  His 
small  size  alone  may  distinguish  him  from  all  other  Wood- 
peckers in  this  locality.  The  top  of  the  head,  the  cheeks, 
the  back  of  the  neck,  both  sides  of  the  back,  the  wings  and 
central  feathers  of  the  tail  are  jet  black.  A  stripe  running 
back  over  each  eye,  and  one  extending  back  from  under 
each  eye  and  up  the  sides  of  the  neck,  the  middle  of  the 
back,  regular  transverse  rows  of  round  spots  in  the  wings, 
and  three  feathers  on  each  side  of  the  tail  are  white,  the 
latter  being  spotted  with  black.  The  under  parts  are  of  a 
grayish  white,  and  the  male  is  marked  with  carmine  on  the 
sides  of  the  hind  head.  Like  those  of  all  the  rest  of  the 
family,  the  eggs  of  this  little  species,  some  85  X-62,  are  pure 
white.  As  is  common  with  Woodpeckers,  both  sexes  take 
part  in  incubation.  The  Downy  Woodpecker  is  particu- 
larly fond  of  orchards  and  such  arboreal  accommodations 
as  may  be  found  in  the  vicinity  of  the  abode  of  man.  Its 
note,  chick,  chick,  is  cheerful,  and  suggestive  of  contentment 
and  self-satisfaction,  and,  like  the  notes  of  the  Woodpeckers 
in  general,  expresses  a  vigorous  energy.  It  is  resident 


26  THE  DOWNY    WOODPECKER. 

throughout  Eastern  North  America,  and  northwestward  to 
Alaska,  being  represented  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  by 
Gairdner's  Woodpecker. 


CHAPTER  II. 

SNOWED   IN. 

WHAT  is  more  romantic,  in  this  our  northern  clime  than  a 
heavy  snow-storm  ?  What  wonder  that  one  of  our  most 
distinguished  American  poets  could  elaborate  a  charming- 
poem  under  the  title,  "Snow-bound."  What  can  be  more 
suggestive  of '  purity,  more  symbolic  of  a  clean  sheet  on 
which  to  begin  a  new  chapter  in  life,  than  the  mantle  of 
snow  which  shrouds  the  landscape  about  the  beginning  of 
our  solar  year  ? 

"  No  cloud  above,  no  earth  below  — 
A  universe  of  sky  and  snow." 

Then  the  snow-flakes  !  What  wonders  of  beauty  they  are  ! 
Unity  in  variety  is  the  law  of  their  forms  of  delicate  beauty. 
Always  star-like,  with  just  six  rays  or  main  points,  they 
seem  to  include  every  variety  of  detail  on  this  plan,  from 
the  perfectly  plain  six-rayed  star  to  the  most  elaborate 
plumose  flower  conceivable^  Every  mineral  having  its  in- 
variable angle  of  crystallization  —  and  snow  and  ice  belong 
to  the  mineral  kingdom — water,  in  consolidating,  shoots 
forth  its  angles  at  precisely  60°  —  a  fact  which  the  merest 
fragment  of  a  snow-flake  will  reveal.  It  is  only  under  cer- 
tain circumstances  that  they  can  be  seen  to  advantage.  If 
they  pass  through  a  stratum  of  air  too  mild  to  keep  them 
below  the  freezing  point,  they  blend,  and  appear  like  pellets 
of  white  lint;  if  there  is  much  wind,  they  are  broken  into 


28  THE   SNOW  BUNTING. 

fine  particles.  When  they  fall  rightly,  examine  them  on 
your  coat-sleeve  under  a  magnifying  glass,  and  you  will 
find  them  to  be  among  the  most  perfect  of  nature's  mar- 
velous workmanship. 

THE   SNOW    BUNTING. 

A  cold,  gray,  midwinter  day  had  been  followed  by  a  quiet 
snow-fall  of  many  inches,  which,  perfectly  undisturbed,  lay 
in  a  huge,  evenly-distributed  pile  over  the  entire  landscape. 


THE   SNOW    BUNTING. 


From  the  dried  mullein-stalk,  standing  in  the  fence-corner, 
to  the  heavy  forest,  the  form  of  every  object  was  changed, 
was  rendered  fantastic  and  ghost-like,  in  this  universal 
shroud  of  pure  white.  Now  the  flakes  were  unusually 
large  and  elaborate;  for,  be  it  remembered,  nearly  every 
snow-storm  affords  a  new  pattern  of  the  flake.  On  the 
bright  morning  which  followed,  while  the  whole  earth  gave 
back  the  grateful  rays  of  the  sun  in  countless  tiny  stars  of 
dazzling  scintillation,  I  was  just  in  the  act  of  dipping  up  a 
handful  of  the  fleecy  snow  in  absorbing  admiration,  when 
lo  !  an  immense  cloud,  nearly  as  white  as  the  sno-vy  itself, 


THE   SNOW  BUNTING.  29 

swept  over  my  head,  and  dropped  down  into  a  field  a  few 
rods  beyond.  But  this  cloud  of  Snow-flakes  —  for  so  the 
Snow  Buntings  are  sometimes  called  —  was  musical,  filling 
the  air  with  a  soft  warbling  chipper  as  they  flew,  .and  keep- 
ing up  the  same  notes  after  they  had  alighted.  How  their 
predominance  of  white  harmonizes  with  the  snow  on  which 
they  hop  and  skip  and  flutter !  while  the  patches  and  mot- 
tlings  of  yellowish  ocher  and  black,  so  varied  in  size  and 
form  in  different  individuals,  remind  one  of  the  autumnal 
earth-colors  just  beneath  the  whitened  landscape.  They 
seem  to  take  delight  in  the  snow  and  in  the  cold.  Indeed, 
this  hardy,  happy  little  bird  is  the  true  herald  of  snow, 
seeming  to  keep  ever  on  the  line,  or  a  little  in  advance,  of 
the  snow-storm,  and  generally  in  large  flocks.  As  the  winter 
is  setting  in,  one  may  stand  on  the  south  of  our  great  Lake 
Ontario  and  see  them  coming  across  by  the  thousand,  their 
rear  outline  being  skirted  by  the  various  smaller  Hawks, 
moving  southward  at  the  same  time,  and  foraging  as 
they  go. 

Their  sprightly  movement  when  on  the  ground,  the  zest 
with  which  they  feed  on  the  seeds  of  weeds  and  grasses, 
cannot  but  give  one  the  impression  of  good  cheer  and 
plenty  on  the  most  inclement  winter's  day.  Impressed  with 
the  utility  of  even  the  weeds,  in  the  nice  adjustment  of  the 
economy  of  nature,  and  with  the  confident  air  of  these  birds 
seeking  their  daily  food,  one  cannot  but  recall  the  words  of 
the  Great  Teacher:  "  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air;  for  they 
sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns;  yet 
your  Heavenly  Father  feedeth  them." 

The  birds  are  not  idle,  indeed.  They  accomplish  a  great 
mission.  A  single  year  without  their  labors  would  be  fol- 
lowed by  a  degree  of  disaster  inconceivable,  perhaps  by  a 
famine.  We  learn  "  that  in  the  early  times  of  the  American 


30  THE  LAPLAND  LONG  SPUR. 

colonies  the  farmers  of  New  England  offered  threepence  a 
head  for  the  Crow  Blackbirds,  on  account  of  their  destruct- 
iveness  in  the  grain  fields.  Consequently  they  were  nearly 
extirpated  for  a  time,  and  the  insects  increased  to  such  a 
degree  as  to  cause  a  total  loss  of  herbage,  and  the  farmers 
were  compelled  to  obtain  hay  from  Pennsylvania,  and  even 
from  Great  Britain."  But  the  birds  can  do  nothing  what- 
ever to  provide  their  own  food.  Yet  when  are  they  seen 
starving  or  wanting  sustenance? 

The  cloud  of  Snow-flakes,  having  taken  sudden  alarm,  are 
risen  high  in  air.  What  graceful  gyrations  and  evolutions  ! 
and  how  the  pure  white  of  their  under  parts  fairly  gleams 
against  the  clear  ether.  Must  not  that  soft,  musical  chatter 
be  an  intelligible  conversation  among  themselves  ?  Never 
did  minds  communicate  in  happier  tones. 

The  nest  of  this  bird  was  once  found  in  New  Hampshire, 
on  a  slope  of  the  White  Mountains,  "  on  the  ground  among 
low  bushes,  and  formed  like  that  of  the  Song  Sparrow."  It 
contained  young.  Another  is  reported,  even  from  Spring- 
field, Massachusetts.  The  ordinary  breeding  place  of  the 
Snow  Bunting,  however,  is  in  the  Arctic  regions,  where  it  is 
said  to  spend  the  summer  in  great  numbers.  It  now 
becomes  a  bird  of  accomplished  song,  building  a  sub- 
stantial nest  on  the  ground  and  in  the  clefts  of  rock,  lined 
with  feathers  and  the  hair  of  the  Arctic  fox.  The  eggs, 
.90  X-65,  are  whitish,  mottled  with  brown,  especially  around 
the  larger  end,  where  the  blotches  sometimes  become  a 
dark  wreath.  The  species  is  common  to  the  higher  latitudes 
of  the  whole  northern  hemisphere. 

THE    LAPLAND    LONGSPUR. 

In  Western  New  York,  the  sunshine  of  early  winter  is 
very  fickle.  In  a  few  hours  the  clearest  sky  may  be  robed 


THE  LAPLAND  .LONG SPUR.  31 

in  the  dark-leaden  clouds  so  peculiar  to  that  season;  and 
when,  perchance,  the  sun  breaks  through,  they  may  be 
fringed  with  a  rich  amber,  quite  uncommon  at  other  seasons 
of  the  year.  On  this  morning  after  the  snow-fall,  the  sun- 
shine left  almost  as  suddenly  as  the  Snow  Buntings,  and 
with  the  leaden  clouds  appeared  another  flock,  equally 
large,  and  so  similar  in  size,  form  and  movement  that  one 
might  readily  think  them  the  same  were  it  not  for  the  pre- 
dominance of  the  dark  colors.  They  are  as  dark  as  the 
sparrows;  the  black  and  ocher,  so  common  to  the  Snow 
Buntings,  making  up  the  entire  dress,  except  the  white 
underneath  and  on  the  sides  of  the  neck;  while  the  breast, 
cheeks  and  sides  under  the  wings  are  ornamented  with 
rich,  black  feathers,  delicately  tipped  with  white.  Thus  the 
careful  observer  will  readily  distinguish  them  as  the  Lap- 
land Longspurs  (Plectrophanes  lapponicus],  and  quite  different 
from  the  Snow  Buntings  (Plectrophanes  nivalis),  of  the 
white  dress,  dark-ocher  patch  on  the  head  lighter  patches 
of  the  same  on  the  ears,  as  also  a  tendency  of  the  same,  in 
the  form  of  a  collar  low  on  the  breast,  black  mixed  with 
the  same  on  the  back,  black  in  the  center  of  the  tail,  upper 
wing-feathers  and  wing-tips. 

The  Lapland  Longspur  spends  the  breeding  season  in 
large  numbers  about  Great  Slave  Lake,  McKenzie's  River, 
and  in  Alaska,  arriving  in  the  latter  place  the  second  week 
in  May.  At  this  time  of  year  it  is  said  to  be  an  eminent 
songster.  Dr.  Coues  describes  the  nidification  as  follows: 
"The  eggs  are  rather  pointed  at  the  smaller  end,  and 
measure  about  0.80  x  0.62.  They  are  very  dark  colored, 
reminding  one  of  the  Titlark's;  the  color  is  a  heavy  cloud- 
ing or  thick  mottling  of  chocolate-brown,  through  which 
the  greenish-gray  ground  is  little  apparent.  The  nests  are 
built  of  mosses  and  fine,  soft,  dried  grasses,  and  lined  with 


32  THE  HAIRY    WOODPECKER. 

a  few  large  feathers  from  some  water- fowl;  they  were 
placed  on  the  ground,  under  tussocks,  in  grassy  hummocks. 
The  female  did  not  leave  the  nest  until  nearly  trodden  upon." 
Like  the  former,  this  bird  occupies  the  Arctic  regions  of 
both  continents,  migrating  southward  in  winter,  even  to 
warm-temperate  latitudes,  though  the  Longspur  is  not  com- 
mon even  then  in  this  locality,  and  is  not  yet  reported  west 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

THE    HAIRY    WOODPECKER. 

"Pimp!  pimp!  pimp!"  with  a  sharp,  metallic  ring.  Who 
does  not  know  the  voice  of  the  Hairy  Woodpecker? — sim- 
ilar, somewhat,  and  yet  very  unlike  that  of  other  members 
of  the  family.  Its  vigorous  and  incisive  tones  are  asso- 
ciated with  the  sounds  of  my  childhood.  Well  do  I  remem- 
ber its  nest,  commonly  chiseled  out  of  the  American  aspen, 
so  soft  and  brittle,  the  nest  being  made  in  a  large,  living 
tree,  and  many  feet  from  the  ground.  What  gems  were  the 
ovate,  smooth  eggs,  some  .98  x  .72,  of  translucent  white;  and 
how  hard  it  seemed  for  the  tender,  unfledged  young  to  lie 
on  a  mere  bed  of  chips !  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  what 
may  be  lacking  in  luxury  is  made  up  in  safety.  What  Blue 
Jay,  Crow,  Hawk  or  Owl  would  think  of  putting  its  head 
into  that  small,  neat,  round  doorway  ?  Even  a  Raccoon 
would  fare  no  better  than  Reynard,  when  the  fabled  Stork 
invited  him  to  dinner;  and  what  snake  would  think  of 
wriggling  up  that  straight  and  limbless  trunk,  some  thirty 
feet  or  upwards  ?  The  male,  moreover,  is  a  very  hero  in 
defense  of  its  nest,  flying  angrily  from  tree  to  tree  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  when  it  is  disturbed,  and  uttering  an 
almost  deafening  racket  of  rage. 

The  Hairy  Woodpecker  (Picus  villosus]  is  8.50-9.00  in 
length,  plumage  soft  and  blended  on  the  back,  appearing 


THE   SHORT-EARED   OWL.  33 

more  like  hair  than  feathers;  head,  back  of  the  neck,  sides 
of  the  back,  wings  and  central  tail-feathers,  black;  stripe 
above  and  below  the  eye,  the  lower  extending  up  the  side 
of  the  neck,  stripe  down  the  middle  of  the  back,  side  feathers 
of  the  tail,  under  parts  and  round  spots  in  rows  across 
the  wings,  white;  the  male  having  two  bright  red  spots  in 
the  white  stripes  on  the  back  of  the  head.  Habitat,  all 
eastern  North  America,  reaching  through  Alaska,  northwest; 
replaced  by  a  variety  called  Harris'  Woodpecker,  beyond 
the  Rocky  Mountains. 

THE    SHORT-EARED    OWL. 

It  is  the  dusk  of  twilight.  How  strong  is  the  contrast 
between  the  snow-clad  earth  and  the  leaden,  almost  inky, 
sky!  What  bird  is  that  flying  low  by  the  barn-yarn  fence? 
It  has  alighted.  Quickly  as  possible  I  get  my  shot-gun  and 
creep  around  behind  the  barn.  Meanwhile,  a  second  has 
alighted  by  the  side  of  the  first.  Probably  they  are  male 
and  female.  I  take  aim,  and  over  topples  one  of  the  birds, 
while  the  other  spreads  its  noiseless  wings  and  flies  away. 

On  picking  up  my  specimen  I  find  it  to  be  the  Short-eared 
Owl  (Brachyotus  palustris).  Palustris  means  pertaining  to 
the  swamp  or  marsh,  and  is  very  properly  applied  to  this 
species,  as  we  shall  presently  see.  From  fourteen  to  fifteen 
inches  long,  light  reddish  brown,  lighter  beneath,  upper 
parts  thickly  streaked  with  blackish-brown,  lower  parts 
more  finely  streaked  with  the  same,  face  whitish,  with  black 
circles  around  the  eyes,  tail  buff,  legs  a  lighter  shade  of  the 
same  color,  ear-tufts  scarcely  noticeable,  this  bird  is  very 
readily  identified,  for  it  is  quite  unlike  any  other  Owl  of  this 
locality. 

The  Short-eared  Owl  breeds  commonly  in  the  salt-marshes 
along  the  Atlantic  and  in  marshy  places  in  the  interior, 
3 


34  THE   SHORT-EARED   OWL. 

making  its  nest  on  the  ground,  sometimes  of  very  slight 
construction,  laying  some  four  or  five  roundish  dull-white 
eggs,  1.50  x  1.30.  Professor  W.  D.  Scott,  of  Princeton,  found 
it  around  the  inlet  of  Barnagat  Bay,  as  a  sort  of  counterpart 
of  the  Marsh  Hawk,  scouring  the  marshes  by  night,  while 
the  latter  took  its  place  in  day-time,  also  breeding  in  the 
same  locality  and  on  the  ground.  According  to  Dall,  the 
Short-eared  Owl  sometimes  breeds  in  burrows.  It  seems  to 
be  common  to  Europe,  Asia,  Greenland,  America  and  the 
West  Indies. 

Sometimes  found  in  the  woods,  but  generally  adhering  to 
swamps  and  marshes,  this  species  is  wont^to  rest  on  the 
ground  during  the  day,  and  if  startled  flies  up  in  a  hurried 
and  "zigzag"  manner,  "as  if  suddenly  awakened  from 
sound  sleep,"  and  sailing  along  rather  low,  drops  down  out 
of  sight  again.  Mr.  W.  Brewster  found  these  Owls  preying 
upon  the  Terns  on  Muskegat  Island.  "  A  small  colony  of 
these  birds  had  established  itself  upon  a  certain  elevated 
part  of  the  island,  spending  the  day  in  a  tract  of  densely- 
matted  grass.  Scattered  about  in  this  retreat  were  the 
remains  of  at  least  a  hundred  Terns  that  they  had  killed 
and  eaten.  Many  of  these  were  fresh,  while  others  were  in 
every  stage  of  decomposition,  or  dried  by  the  sun  and  wind. 
In  each  case  the  breast  had  been  picked  clean,  but  in  no 
instance  was  any  other  portion  disturbed.  Every  day,  at  a 
certain  time,  these  Owls  sallied  forth  in  search  of  fresh  prey. 
We  used  regularly  to  see  them  about  sunset,  sailing  in  cir- 
cles over  the  island  or  beating  along  the  crests  of  the  sand- 
hills. They  were  invariably  followed  by  vast  mobs  of 
enraged  Terns,  which  dived  angrily  down  over  the  spot 
where  the  Owl  had  alighted,  or  strung  out  in  the  wake  of 
its  flight  like  the  tail  of  a  comet.  The  Owl  commonly  paid 
little  attention  to  this  unbidden  following,  and  apparently 


THE  LONG-EARED    OWL.  35 

never  tried  to  seize  its  persecutors  while  on  the  wing,  but 
on  several  occasions  we  saw  a  sitting  bird  pounced  upon 
and  borne  off.  Sometimes  in  the  middle  of  the  night  a  great 
outcry  among  the  Terns  told  when  a  tragedy  was  being 
enacted." 

Like  the  rest  of  the  Owls,  the  Short-ear  is  for  the  most 
part  a  bird  of  the  night;  and  it  feeds  especially  on  mice  and 
moles. 

THE    LONG-EARED    OWL 

(Otus  vulgaris  var.  wilsonianus)  is  a  common  resident  in  the 
swamps  and  dense  evergreen  woods,  but  is  nowhere  abund- 
ant in  Western  New  York.  About  the  size  of  the  former,  it 
is  readily  distinguishable  by  its  long  ear-like  tufts  of  8-12 
feathers,  situated  on  the  top  of  the  head  like  the  ears  of  a 
cat,  and  by  its  darker  color;  dark  brown,  mixed  with  fulvous 
and  finely  specked  with  white,  above;  white,  lined  and 
crossed  with  light-brown,  below;  facial  disks  and  feet,  fulv- 
ous; narrow  ring  around  the  eye,  black.  This  variety  of  the 
European  species  (vulgaris]  is  of  rather  southern  habitat, 
stretching  across  the  continent,  and,  perhaps,  barely  extend- 
ing into  New  England.  It  breeds  abundantly  in  Eastern 
Pennsylvania,  its  nest,  placed  in  trees  or  possibly  on  the 
ground, being  "usually  constructed  of  rude  sticks,  sometimes 
of  boughs  with  the  leaves  adherent  thereto,  externally,  and 
generally,  but  not  always,  lined  with  the  feathers  of  birds." 
The  same  nest  is  used  for  a  succession  of  years,  and  it  is  the 
testimony  of  both  Wilson  and  Audubon,  as  also  of  Buffon, 
in  respect  to  the  European  variety,  that  the  deserted  nests 
of  other  birds  are  appropriated  and  repaired.  The  eggs, 
commonly  four,  about  1.50  X  1.35,  are  roundish  and  white, 
after  the  manner  of  Owls.  In  common  with  its  class, 
the  food  of  this  species  is  small  birds  and  reptiles  and 
insects. 


36  THE   SCREECH  OWL. 

THE    SCREECH    OWL. 

After  a  few  days  the  weather  grew  intensely  cold,  the 
thermometer  running  ten  degrees  below  zero.  Making  a 
professional  visit  on  one  of  these  bitter  days,  as  I  drove 


THE    SCREECH    OWL. 


into  the  barn-yard  to  unharness  my  horse,  I  noticed  the 
result  of  quite  a  little  tragedy  in  the  animal  kingdom. 
Some  fifteen  feet  up  the  side  of  the  barn  hung  a  Screech 
Owl  (Scops  asw),  caught  by  one  foot  under  a  large  batten 
partly  sprung  off  from  the  building.  It  was  frozen  stiff,  its 
eyes  standing  out  white  and  ghastly  with  the  expansion  of 
the  frost;  and  just  above  it,  seemingly  caught  under  the 
same  batten,  and  frozen  in  like  manner,  was  a  common 


THE   SCREECH  OWL.  37 

mouse;  thus  both  had  been  turned  into  ice  in  the  very  act 
of  the  chase. 

This  bird  is  abundant  here  throughout  the  year,  but  is 
more  noticeable  in  winter,  as  it  then  approaches  the  barn 
and  the  out-buildings,  probably  in  search  of  food  and  shelter. 
In  late  summer  and  early  autumn  it  may  be  heard  about 
the  orchard  or  the  edge  of  the  wood;  in  the  evening,  uttering  a 
soft  whinny,  not  at  all  to  be  compared,  however,  to  "screech- 
ing." Thoreau,  describing  the  sounds  within  hearing  of  his  hut 
at  Walden  Lake,  gives  special  prominence  to  the  vocal  per- 
formance of  this  bird.  He  says:  "  It  is  no  honest  and  blunt  tu- 
whit,  tu-whovi  the  poets,  but,  without  jesting,  a  most  solemn, 
graveyard  ditty,  the  mutual  consolations  of  suicide  lovers 
remembering  the  pangs  and  the  delights  of  supernal  love  in 
the  infernal  groves.  Yet  I  love  to  hear  their  wailing,  their 
doleful  responses,  trilled  along  the  road-side,  reminding  me 
sometimes  of  music  and  singing  birds;  as  if  it  were  the 
dark  and  tearful  side  of  music,  the  regrets  and  sighs  that 
would  feign  be  sung.  '  They  are  the  spirits,  the  low  spirits 
and  melancholy  forebodings  of  fallen  souls  that  once  in 
human  shape  night-walked  the  earth  and  did  the  deeds  of 
darkness,  now  expiating  their  sins  with  their  wailing  hymns 
or  threnodies  in  the  scenery  of  their  transgressions.  They 
give  me  a  new  sense  of  the  variety  and  capacity  of  that 
nature  which  is  our  common  dwelling.  Oh-o-o-o-o  that  I 
never  had  been  bor-r-r-r-r-n !  sighs  one  on  this  side  of  the 
pond,  and  circles  with  the  restlessness  of  despair  to  some 
new  perch  on  the  gray  oaks.  Then  —  that  I  never  had  been 
bor-r-r-r-n  !  echoes  another  on  the  further  side  with  tremu- 
lous sincerity,  and  bor-r-r-r-n!  comes  faintly  from  far  in 
Lincoln  woods." 

About  nine  inches  long,  with  large  ear-tufts,  ash-gray 
above,  with  a  lighter  shade  of  the  same  beneath,  all 


38  THE   SCREECH  OWL. 

over  mottled  and  streaked  with  black,  the  black  streaks 
beneath  again  crossed  with  black  and  accompanied  with 
reddish  tints,  white  markings  on  the  shoulders  —  sometimes 
the  general  ash-gray  above  mentioned  being  entirely  re- 
placed by  reddish;  this  bird  can  never  be  mistaken.  H.  D. 
Minot  says:  "The  eggs  are  laid  in  the  hollow  of  a  tree,  an 
apple-tree  being  frequently  selected,  in  which  are  often 
placed  a  few  simple  materials,  such  as  leaves  or  dried  grass. 
The  eggs,  of  which  four  are  laid  about  the  middle  of  April, 
average  1.35  x  1-20  of  an  inch,  though  occasionally  speci- 
mens measure  1.50  x  1-30  of  an  inch.  They  are  white,  and 
nearly  spherical."  The  almost  round,  white  eggs,  generally 
pure  white  and  about  equal  at  both  ends,  and  with  a  fine 
surface,  are  characteristic  of  the  Owls. 

Mr.  W.  Perham  (at  Tyngsboro,  Mass.)  often  secures  the 
nest  of  this  species  by  fastening  on  trees  in  the  woods 
"sections  of  hollow  trunks,  boarded  up  at  the  open  ends, 
with  entrance-holes  cut  in  the  sides,"  the  bird  appropriating, 
these  instead  of  natural  cavities  or  deserted  Woodpeckers' 
nests,  "both  as  roosting  and  nesting  places." 

As  with  the  Owls  in  general,  this  species,  when  in  the 
down,  is  pure  white.  Being  very  small,  excepting  the  bill 
and  feet,  it  might  be  mistaken  for  a  little  white  Bantam 
Chicken.  A  pretty  sight,  indeed,  is  this  snow-white  brood 
of  little  creatures,  in  a  hole  of  some  old  apple-tree,  in  the 
thick,  shadowy  part  of  the  orchard,  or  in  some  partially 
decayed  tree  in  the  edge  of  a  dense  woods. 

On  one  of  the  last  days  of  May  (1880),  I  was  surprised, 
while  passing  through  the  woods,  by  something  which 
seemed  to  me  at  first  sight  a  large  bunch  of  gray  wool  on 
a  limb  some  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground,  but  which,  on 
closer  examination,  proved  to  be  four  young  Screech  Owls, 
nearly  full-grown,  well  fledged,  and  sitting  so  closely  to- 


THE  ACADIAN  OWL.  39 

gether,  and  so  perfectly  still,  as  to  require  quite  an  effort 
to  define  them  to  the  eye.  They  were  a  weird  sight. 
The  plumage  was  soft  and  downy,  the  color  cold  gray,  thus 
refuting  the  theory  that  the  red  garb,  in  which  this  bird  is 
often  found,  is  the  immature  dress.  The  same  species  seems 
to  be  sometimes  red,  and  sometimes  gray,  independent  of 
age  or  sex. 

In  the  latter  part  of  June,  the  same  year,  on  entering  the 
woods  at  late  twilight,  a  bird  flew  at  my  head,  uttering  a 
hoarse,  guttural  scream,  followed  by  a  sharp  snapping  of 
the  bill.  It  proved  to  be  a  Screech  Owl,  probably  a  parent 
bird,  with  young  near  by. 

Including  a  number  of  varieties,  this  Owl  inhabits  North 
America  at  large. 

THE    ACADIAN    OWL. 

The  Acadian  Owl  (Nyctale  acaclicd)  or  Saw- whet,  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  from  its  peculiar,  rasping  note,  sounding 
like  the  filing  of  a  saw,  is  not  infrequently  found  here;  but 
is,  apparently,  hot  nearly  so  common  as  Scops  asio.  It 
must  breed  here,  as  it  is  resident,  and  I  have  seen  the  young 
taken  in  Orleans  County.  The  male  of  this  pigmy  of  its 
race  averages  some  7.25,  length;  some  19.50  in  extent.  The 
female  is  about  an  inch  longer,  and  every  way  larger  in  pro- 
portion. With  head  proportionately  large,  round,  untufted, 
and  facial  disks  complete,  the  adult  is  fine,  clear  brown 
above,  scapulars  and  wing  coverts  marked  with  white,  and 
an  under-surface  ring  of  the  same  around  the  back  of  the 
head;  outside  and  inside  web  of  primaries,  and  inside  web 
of  the  secondaries,  white-spotted;  tail  tipped  with  white, 
and  having  several  cross-lines  of  spots  of  same;  space 
around  the  bill  generally,  and  above  and  below  the  eye, 
white  or  yellowish-white;  top  of  the  head,  auriculars  and 
sides  of  neck  streaked  with  white;  and  clear  white  arcs 


40 


THE    WAX-  WING. 


back  of  the  ears;  under  parts  white,  broadly  streaked  with 
reddish-brown.  Young,  more  generally  dark  brown,  un- 
spotted, with  clear  white  forehead  and  eye-brows,  and  clear, 
light  reddish-brown  under  parts.  Slyly  nesting  in  the  hole 
of  a  tree,  the  nearly  round,  pure  white  eggs  of  this  species 
are  1.22  X  .96.  They  are  laid  in  April,  and  the  newly- 
hatched  young  are  covered  with  a  reddish  down.  This 
pigmy  must  have  a  good  appetite,  for,  not  long  since,  an 
individual  was  taken  in  N.  J.,  the  stomach  of  which  "  con- 
tained a  whole  Flying-squirrel."  Habitat,  North  America; 
most  common,  perhaps,  in  the  latitudes  of  New  England 
and  Nova  Scotia. 

THE    WAX-WING. 

What  a  beautiful  figure  in  the  winter  landscape  is  that 
mountain  ash  in  the  front  yard!  —  only  it  is  no  ash  at  all, 

V.  / 


THE    WAX-WING. 


but  a  member  of  the  Rose  family.     Symmetrical  and  grace- 
ful, its  dark-brown  colored  spray,  beautifully  relieved  by  the 


THE  PINE  LINNET.  41 

great  scarlet  clusters  of  persistent  fruit,  it  is  a  constant  source 
of  pleasure  to  the  eye.  But  oh!  see  it  now!  fairly  bending 
under  the  weight  of  an  immense  flock  of  Wax-wings  (Ampelis 
garrulus).  The  whole  tree-top  seems  alive  with  their  flutter- 
ing motion,  as  they  keep  up  a  soft  but  spirited  chipper,  half- 
way between  a  whisper  and  a  whistle,  and  gobble  up  the 
berries  with  the  gusto  of  extreme  hunger.  How  beautiful 
they  are!  The  form  is  fine,  and  it  has  an  elegant  crest;  gen- 
eral color,  a  brownish  drab,  approaching  ash-gray  over  the 
back,  and  chestnut  around  the  base  of  the  lofty  crest,  and 
around  the  margin  of  the  deep  black  passing  horizontally 
across  the  forehead  across  and  above  the  eyes  and  forming 
a  large  patch  on  the  throat;  under  tail  coverts  chestnut; 
wings  and  tail  blackish,  the  latter  shading  most  beautifully 
into  dark  ash  toward  the  base;  streak  at  the  base  of  the 
lower  mandible  and  one  under  the  eye;  tips  of  primary  wing 
coverts  and  outer  terminal  web  of  the  secondaries,  white; 
the  latter  with  waxen  appendages  on  the  quills;  the  prima- 
ries and  the  tail  tipped  with  bright  yellow,  the  former  some- 
times edged  across  the  end  with  white.  It  is  7  —  8  inches 
long.  The  size  and  form  of  this  species,  its  elegant  shading 
of  rich  colors,  and  its  bright  and  sharply-contrasted  mark- 
ings fairly  entitle  it  to  its  European  epithet,  "The  Lovely 
Wax  -  wing!  "  This  is  an  Arctic  bird,  both  of  the  Old  World 
and  the  New,  and  appears  here  irregularly  in  flocks  in  win- 
ter, sometimes  moving  southward  to  35°.  Its  nest  and  eggs, 
a  few  of  which  have  been  found  in  the  northern  part  of  this 
continent,  are  very  similar  to  those  of  its  near  relative,  the 
Cedar  Bird,  only  a  little  larger. 

THE    PINE    LINNET. 

One  of  these  cold  days,  as  I  was  riding  by  a  pasture  well 
stocked  with  the  remains  of  the  thistle  and  golden-rod  of 


42  THE  PINE  LINNET. 

the  previous  summer,  I  shot  a  solitary  bird  on  a  thistle, 
which,  in  movement  and  appearance,  reminded  me  of  the 
Goldfinch.  It  proved,  however,  to  be  its  near  relative,  the 
Pine  Linnet  (Chrysomitris pinus),  the  first  of  the  kind  I  had 
ever  identified.  Like  many  birds,  appearing  plain  in  the 
distance,  on  .a  close  examination  it  is  found  to  be  a  thing  of 
delicate  beauty.  The  size  and  form  of  the  Goldfinch,  it  differs 
much  from  it  in  color.  About  4.75  inches  long,  above  it  is 
narrowly  streaked  with  black  or  dusky  and  yellowish  flaxen, 
beneath  with  dusky  and  yellowish  white;  the  rump  yellow- 
ish; the  bases  of  the  black  or  dusky  wing  and  tail  feathers, 
bright,  sulphury  yeltow,  the  same  feathers  being  narrowly 
edged  externally  with  yellowish;  the  yellow  at  the  bases  of 
wing  and  tail  feathers  being  especially  noticeable  in  flight. 

This  bird  ranges  generally  in  flocks,  and  more  or  less 
irregularly  throughout  the  United  States  in  winter,  and,  as 
far  as  yet  known,  breeds  from  the  latitude  of  Maine  north- 
ward. It  is  sometimes  in  Western  New  York  already  in 
flocks  by  the  4th  of  July. 

Dr.  C.  Hart  Merriam,  of  Locust  Grove,  Lewis  County, 
New  York,  writes  concerning  this  species:  "Few  birds  are 
more  erratic  in  their  habits  than  the  Siskin  or  Pine  Linnet. 
Occurring  to-day,  perhaps,  in  such  numbers  that  one  soon 
tires  of  shooting  them,  they  are  gone  on  the  morrow,  and 
years  may  elapse  before  one  is  seen  again."  Concerning 
1878,  he  continues:  "During  the  past  winter  and  spring 
they  literally  swarmed  in  Lewis  County,  New  York,  and 
thousands  of  them  bred  throughout  the  heavy  evergreen 
forests  east  of  Black  River,  while  many  scattered  pairs 
nested  in  suitable  hemlock  and  balsam  swamps  in  the  mid- 
dle districts."  Again  he  says  of  this  region,  and  of  Big 
Otter  Lake  in  Herkimer  County:  "Never  before  at  any 
locality  have  I  seen  a  species  of  bird  represented  by  such 


THE    TREE   SPARROW.  43 

immense  numbers  of  individuals  as  here  attested  the  abund- 
ance of  the  Pine  Finch.  In  every  part  of  the  forest,  from 
early  morning  till  after  the  sun  had  disappeared  in  the  west, 
there  was  not  a  moment  that  their  voices  were  not  heard 
among  the  pines  and  spruce  trees  overhead."  Already  in 
April  the  young  were  found  nearly  fledged,  and  eggs  were 
taken  as  early  as  the  18th  of  March.  Dr.  M.  reports  the 
nest  as  "a  very  bulky  structure  for  so  small  a  bird,  and  its 
rough  exterior,  loosely  built  of  hemlock  twigs,  with  a  few 
sprigs  of  pigeon  moss  (j>olytrichuni)  interspersed,  is  irregu- 
lar in  outline,  and  measures  about  six  inches  in  diameter. 
The  interior,  on  the  contrary,  is  compactly  woven  into  a 
sort  of  felt,  the  chief  ingredients  of  which  are  thistle-down 
and  the  fur  and  hair  of  various  mammals." 

In  spring  it  is  said  to  sing  very  much  like  the  Goldfinch, 
but  in  lower  tones  and  more  softly.  Its  conversational 
chipper  is  also  very  similar  to  that  of  its  near  relative.  Its 
nest,  said  by  Dr.  Brewer  to  be  "neat,"  made  of  "pine  twigs" 
and  "lined  with  hair;"  contains  pale-greenish  eggs  speckled 
with  rusty,  about  .70  X  .50. 

In  flight,  manner  of  alighting,  and  movements  in  obtain- 
ing food,  this  species  very  closely  resembles  the  Goldfinch. 
In  addition  to  the  seeds  of  the  thistle  and  those  of  the  weeds 
in  general,  it  appropriates  as  food  the  seeds  obtained  from 
the  cones  of  the  Pine  family,  climbing  actively  in  the  tops 
of  the  evergreens. 

THE    TREE    SPARROW. 

The  same  day  I  crept  on  a  large  flock  of  birds  in  a  corn 
field.  They  proved  to  be  Tree  Sparrows  (Spizella  monticold), 
readily  distinguished  from  others  of  the  same  family  by 
their  dark  chestnut  crown,  and  dark  spot  on  a  plain,  ash- 
colored  breast;  the  white  cross-bars  on  the  wing  coverts 
also  are  generally  quite  conspicuous. 


44  THE   GOLDFINCH. 

Reaching  us  in  October,  this  is  one  of  our  most  abundant 
winter  birds,  generally  in  large  flocks,  extending  nearly  to 
the  Gulf  States,  and  returning  northward  in  April  and 
early  in  May.  It  "  breeds  north  of  the  United  States,  to 
high  latitudes,  but  also,  like  the  Snow-bird,  in  mountains 
within  our  limits."  (Coues.)  Its  eggs  are  said  to  be  much 
like  those  of  the  Song  Sparrow,  and  its  nest  indifferently  on 
the  ground,  in  a  bush,  or  in  a  tree. 

So  gentle  and  unsuspecting  is  this  bird,  that  it  will  even 
pick  up  the  crumbs  around  the  door  in  winter,  though  it 
generally  affects  the  field,  the  pasture,  the  thicket,  or  the 
orchard;  and  it  seems  to  sing  almost  throughout  the  year. 
In  the  latter  part  of  March,  or  during  the  month  of  April, 
when  the  Song  Sparrow  is  giving  us  his  earliest  and  most 
ringing  notes,  from  the  thickets  and  from  the  ground  you 
may  hear  the  soft,  sweet  notes  of  this  species,  as  a  sort  of 
undertoned  accompaniment —  Whee-he-ho-he-whee-he-he-he-he; 
the  first  four  notes  drawn  out,  and  the  rest  uttered  some- 
what rapidly.  In  mild  days  of  November  whole  flocks 
may  be  heard  warbling  almost  as  sweetly  as  in  spring,  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  cold  of  winter,  their  notes  are  often 
much  more  like  a  warble  than  a  mere  twitter,  a  whole  flock 
becoming  thoroughly  musical.  In  the  soft  sweetness  of  its 
song,  its  general  habit  and  migration,  it  is  very  much  like 
the  Dark  Snow-bird,  and,  like  it,  is  not  common  west  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 

THE    GOLDFINCH. 

We  have  had  several  sunny  days,  and  our  heavy  fall  of 
snow  has  settled  to  a  stratum  of  six  or  eight  inches.  I  am 
leisurely  strolling  through  a  thicket,  on  a  bright  afternoon, 
on  the  sunny  side  of  a  large  woods.  I  find  Chickadees,  in 
familiar  little  parties,  happy  as  the  sunshine.  A  small  flock 
of  Tree  Sparrows  has  also  flown  overhead,  and  lighted  in 


'  THE   GOLDFINCH.  45 

a  pasture  near  by.  But  the  most  numerous  and  spirited 
company  I  meet  is  a  party  of  Goldfinches  (Chrysomitris 
tristis}.  After  caroling  and  whirling,  high  in  air,  they  have 
alighted  within  a  short  gun-shot.  Excepting  the  Wrens,  this 
is  decidedly  the  most  animated  bird  of  my  acquaintance. 
Every  particle  of  his  being  seems  inspirited  with  life.  A 
rare  thing,  indeed,  it  is  to  catch  him  in  a  state  of  rest. 
When  taking  food,  he  seems  to  go  through  all  the  motions 
possible,  now  reaching  upward,  now  downward,  now  side- 
wise,  and  now  hanging  by  the  feet.  In  flight  he  takes  long, 
bounding  curves,  showing  an  elasticity  of  stroke  altogether 
uncommon;  and  to  make  that  flight  still  more  animated, 
frequently  utters  his  strongly  emphasized  ditty  —  "I've 
cheated  ye,  I've  cheated  ye"  On  lighting  in  a  tree,  he  is  in  a 
perfect  state  of  excitement,  beckoning,  chattering  and  call- 
ing, as  if  seeking  to  attract  universal  attention,  giving  one 
the  impression  that  there  is  a  host  of  other  birds  within 
hailing  distance.  Indeed,  he  never  seems  alone.  When  he 
sings,  he  seems  so  brimful  of  his  song,  and  in  such  haste  to 
deliver  it,  that  he  cannot  articulate  distinctly,  but  runs  one 
note  into  another,  and  breaks  others  off  so  abruptly  that, 
notwithstanding  its  pleasing  vivacity,  it  often  appears  quite 
incomplete.  Not  infrequently  a  considerable  flock  will  all 
sing  at  once,  thus  making  a  noisy  chorus.  In  the  case  of 
birds,  as  in  the  case  of  men,  we  should  not  confound  song 
with  conversation.  In  respect  to  the  latter,  the  Goldfinch 
has  a  great  variety  of  notes,  which  it  is  about  impossible 
to  describe  in  full.  Tid-tid-di-die,  tse-hee-tsee,  tee-hee,  in  addi- 
tion to  his  familiar  ditty  when  in  flight,  are  sounds  quite 
common  to  him.  Whether  we  contemplate  him  in  voice  or 
in  action,  the  sentiment  ever  expressed  by  him  is  that  of 
joy,  so  that  he  is  properly  spoken  of  as  the  happy  Gold- 
finch. This  is  particularly  a  seed-eater,  and,  like  the  rest  of 


46  THE   GOLDFINCH. 

his  family,  the  FringiUidt^  which  includes  the  Sparrows  and 
their  relatives,  he  has  a  short,  thick  bill,  with  which  to  shell 
the  seeds.  In  common  with  the  rest  of  our  winter  birds,  he 
does  no  small  service  in  keeping  down  the  weeds.  In  plac- 
ing the  Goldfinch  on  the  thistle,  Audubon  rendered  his 
portrait  true  to  nature.  He  is  found  there  more  frequently 
than  on  any  other  plant.  How  often  we  see  him  leading  out 
his  young  family  to  dine  on  the  seeds  of  this  very  common 
and  troublesome  weed  !  Hence  he  is  sometimes  called  the 
Thistle-bird.  This  natural  inclination  to  aid  the  farmer  in 
his  struggle  with  noxious  plants  should  especially  commend 
our  sprightly  little  friend,  as  well  as  his  whole  family  con- 
nection, to  the  kindly  consideration  of  the  farmer.  Besides, 
do  not  the  trim  form,  bright  colors,  graceful  and  spirited 
movements,  and  cheerful,  happy  voice  of  this  species,  con- 
tribute constantly  to  the  innocent  pleasures  of  the  out-door 
laborer?  Is  he  not  the  true  messenger  of  a  boundless  joy 
for  man  as  well  as  for  the  birds  ? 

The  winter  dress  of  our  bird  has  nothing  attractive. 
Audubon  has  described  it  well  and  in  few  words:  "Brown- 
ish-olive above,  without  black  on  the  head;  foreneck  and 
breast  grayish-yellow,  the  rest  of  the  lower  parts  grayish- 
white."  But  this  is  not  the  color  of  the  female  in  summer. 
Lacking  the  bright  lemon-yellow,  black  crown,  black  wings 
and  tail  marked  with  white,  which  constitute  the  vernal 
habit  of  the  male  —  in  her  plain  suit  of  green,  with  dusky 
wings  and  tail,  and  shading  into  yellow  underneath  —  she  is 
truly  beautiful,  as  she  flits  by  the  side  of  her  gay  consort. 
Have  you  ever  seen  the  two  take  each  other  by  the  bill  and 
delicately  caress  each  other  under  the  brow  of  some  hill  on 
a  beautiful  spring  day  ? 

In  its  time  of  nesting  this  bird  is  quite  unaccountable. 
Though  the  male  has  put  on  his  gay  attire,  long  before  the 


THE   GOLDFINCH.  47 

spring  is  robed  in  splendor,  and  has  chosen  his  mate  quite 
as  soon  as  other  birds,  not  until  July  is  there  the  slightest 
indication  of  domestic  cares.  Then  you  no  longer  see  them 
in  large,  noisy  parties,  but  each  couple  has  found  a  quiet 
nook,  and  become  as  steady  as  any  other  pair  of  birds. 
Quite  commonly  the  site  chosen  is  in  the  orchard,  some- 
times in  the  top  of  a  tall  shade-tree  which  stretches  its 
boughs  over  the  house-roof,  often  in  the  thicket  which  bor- 
ders the  forest,  and  not  infrequently  in  a  cosy  clump  of 
elders.  In  the  latter  kind  of  place,  late  in  July,  was  found 
a  very  gem  of  a  nest,  now  before  me.  True  to  the  favorite 
plant,  it  is  mostly  composed  of  thistle-down,  interlaced  and 
wound  into  position  by  fine  shreds  of  the  bark  of  the  grape- 
vine and  bass-woods,  all  of  which  materials  give  it  a  some- 
what bulky,  but  neat,  gray  appearance,  beautifully  in  har- 
mony with  the  branch  on  which  it  is  saddled.  This  nest  is 
finished  alike  within  and  without,  and  even  on  the  under 
side.  It  is  not  merely  built  on  the  limb,  but  neatly  finished 
around  it.  Evidently  it  was  not  constructed  in  a  hurry. 
The  bottom,  sides,  and  rim  are  thick,  and  firm,  and  finely 
felted  together.  The  inside  is  an  elegant  bed  of  white, 
silky  down.  In  every  respect  it  is  perfect.  But  oh,  the 
eggs!  What  gems  they  are!  Some  half-dozen,  the  size  of 
a  Wren's  egg,  .65  X  .51,  clear  white,  tinged  with  green,  they 
render  the  nest  perfect  in  beauty.  Many  a  time  has  the  sight 
of  it  thrilled  me  with  pleasure,  and  never  more  than  to-night, 
as  I  review  all  its  beauties  for  an  accurate  description,  and 
recall  the  many  kindnesses  of  the  dear  friend  who  compli- 
mented my  tastes  in  saving  it  for  me. 

Like  some  others  of  the  smaller  birds,  the  Goldfinch  sits 
only  about  a  week. 

It  ranges  through  North  America  generally,  breeding  as 
far  south  as  Kentucky. 


48  THE  RUFFED    GROUSE. 

THE    RUFFED    GROUSE. 

One  of  my  townsmen  has  just  brought  a  pair  of  beautiful 
Ruffed  Grouse  (.Bonasa  umbelld),  male  and  female,  and 
wishes  them  mounted.  He  has  described  the  attitudes  he 
prefers;  the  male,  "as  if  he  was  just  goin'  to  fly,"  and  the 
female,  "as  if  she  was  harkin'."  I  will  try  to  comply  with 
the  request.  These  birds  remind  me  of  an  incident  of  a  few 
years  ago.  One  of  my  most  esteemed  parishioners,  on  going 
out  into  his  door-yard  at  break  of  day,  early  in  November, 
found  a  beautiful  male  of  the  Ruffed  Grouse  promenading 
about  like  a  domestic  fowl.  On  attempting  to  fly  over  the 
barn  it  struck  the  ridge  of  the  roof  and  fell  dead  on  the 
other  side.  He  brought  it  to  me,  and,  on  dissection,  its 
breast  proved  to  be  completely  bruised.  In  more  super- 
stitious times  this  might  have  been  regarded  as  an  evil 
omen,  for  a  few  months  afterwards  this  same  man  was 
instantaneously  killed. 

These  birds  before  me  are  specially  characteristic  of 
Eastern  North  America,  and  have  a  history,  which  cannot 
fail  to  interest  the  lover  of  nature.  The  man  who  procured 
them  might  well  be  impressed  with  their  movements  and 
attitudes,  for  they  are  every  way  marked  and  pleasing. 

"On  the  ground,"  says  Audubon,  "where  the  Ruffed 
Grouse  spends  a  large  portion  of  its  time,  its  motions  are 
peculiarly  graceful.  It  walks  with  an  elevated,  firm  step, 
opening  its  beautiful  tail  gently  and  with  a  well-marked 
jet,  holding  erect  its  head,  the  feathers  of  which  are  fre- 
quently raised,  as  are  the  velvety  tufts  of  its  neck.  It  poises 
its  body  on  one  foot  for  several  seconds  at  a  time,  and  utters 
a  soft  cluck,  which  in  itself  implies  a  degree  of  confidence  in 
the  bird  that  its  tout  ensemble  is  deserving  of  the  notice  of 
any  bystander.  Should  the  bird  discover  that  it  is  observed, 
its  step  immediately  changes  to  a  rapid  run,  its  head  is 


THE  RUFFED   GROUSE.  49 

lowered,  its  tail  is  more  widely  spread,  and,  if  no  convenient 
hiding  place  is  at  hand,  it  immediately  takes  flight  with  as 
much  of  the  whirring  sound  as  it  can  produce,  as  if  to  prove 
to  the  observer  that,  when  on  the  wing,  it  cares  as  little 
about  him  as  the  deer  pretends  to  do  when,  on  being  started 
by  the  hound,  he  makes  several  lofty  bounds,  and  erects  his 
tail  to  the  breeze." 

Who  that  lives  in  his  vicinity  has  not  heard  the  "  drum- 
ming" of  the  male  in  the  breeding  season?  Although  it  is 
quite  possible'that  he  may  not  have  seen  the  bird  in  the  act, 
for  that  is  the  privilege  of  but  few.  Mr.  John  Burroughs 
says:  "The  male  bird  selects,  not  as  you  would  predict,  a 
dry  and  resinous  log,  but  a  decayed  and  crumbling  one, 
seeming  to  give  the  preference  to  old  oak  logs  that  are  par- 
tially blended  with  the  soil.  If  a  log  to  his  taste  cannot  be 
found,  he  sets  up  his  altar  on  a  rock,  which  becomes  resonant 
beneath  his  fervent  blows.  Who  has  seen  the  Partridge 
drum  ?  It  is  the  next  thing  to  catching  a  weasel  asleep, 
though  by  much  caution  and  tact  it  may  be  done.  He  does 
not  hug  the  log,  but  stands  very  erect,  expands  his  ruff, 
gives  two  introductory  blows,  pauses  half  a  second,  and  then 
resumes,  striking  faster  and  faster,  till  the  sound  becomes  a 
continuous  unbroken  whir,  the  whole  lasting  less  than  half 
a  minute.  The  tips  of  his  wings  barely  brush  the  log,  so 
that  the  sound  is  produced  rather  by  the  force  of  the  blows 
upon  the  air  and  upon  his  own  body  as  in  flying.  One  log 
will  be  used  for  many  years,  though  not  by  the  same  drum- 
mer. It  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  temple,  and  held  in  great 
respect.  The  bird  always  approaches  on  foot,  and  leaves  it 
in  the  same  quiet  manner,  unless  rudely  disturbed.  He  is 
very  cunning,  though  his  wit  is  not  profound.  It  is  difficult 
to  approach  him  by  stealth;  you  try  many  times  before  suc- 
ceeding; but  seem  to  pass  by  him  in  a  great  hurry,  making 
4 


50  THE  RUFFED   GROUSE. 

all  the  noise  possible,  and  with  plumage  furled  he  stands  as 
immovable  as  a  knot,  allowing  you  a  good  view  and  a  good 
shot,  if  you  are  a  sportsman."  Audubon  says:  "  The  female, 
which  never  drums,  flies  directly  to  the  place  where  the  male 
is  thus  engaged,  and,  on  approaching  him,  opens  her  wings 
before  him,  balances  her  body  to  the  right  and  left,  and  then 
receives  his  caresses." 

Whether  the  drumming  is  produced  by  striking  the  wings 
against  the  body,  by  striking  the  wings  together  behind  the 
back,  or  by  simply  beating  the  air,  has  been  a'much  debated 
question.  Probably  the  latter  is  the  true  explanation.  Nor 
is  it  merely  the  call  of  the  male  to  the  female  in  the  breed- 
ing season,  since  it  is  indulged  in  at  other  times  of  the  year, 
but  is  also,  as  Nuttall  has  said,  "an  instinctive  expression 
of  hilarity  and  vigor." 

Behold  the  male  strutting  before  the  female  in  time  of 
courtship!  The  first  time  I  saw  him  in  this  act  I  was  utterly 
at  a  loss  to  identify  him.  The  ruff  about  the  neck  is  per- 
fectly erect,  so  that  the  head  is  almost  disguised;  the  wings 
are  partially  opened,  and  droop  gracefully;  the  feathers  gen- 
erally are  elevated;  the  tail,  with  its  rich,  black  band,  is 
spread  to  the  utmost  and  thrown  forward.  Thus  he  stands 
nearly  motionless,  a  genuine  object  of  beauty 

The  flight  of  the  Partridge  is  straight  forward,  vigorous 
and  heavy  for  about  half  the  distance,  after  which  it  simply 
sails,  and  that  most  gracefully,  almost  ethereally,  to  the 
place  of  lighting.  Thus  the  last  part  of  its  flight  is  strik- 
ingly in  contrast  with  the  first.  The  whirring  strokes  of 
the  Partridge  when  put  up  is  not,  in  all  probability,  its 
ordinary  mode  of  flight,  but  only  the  result  of  its  surprise. 
The  best  of  observers  affirm  that,  when  rising  of  its  own 
accord,  its  flight  is  as  noiseless  as  that  of  other  birds.  Its 
habit  of  shooting  for  some  distance  through  the  loose  snow, 


THE  RUFFED   GROUSE.  51 

in  the  course  of  its  flight,  and  of  sitting  still  and  allowing 
itself  to  be  snowed  over,  and  then  starting  out,  as  by  a  sud- 
den explosion,  on  some  surprise,  have  been  attested  by 
several  writers  of  the  best  authority. 

Audubon  used  to  attract  the  Ruffed  Grouse  "by  beating 
a  large  inflated  bullock's  bladder  with  a  stick,  keeping  up 
as  much  as  possible  the  same  time  as  that  in  which  the  bird 
beats."  "At  the  sound  produced  by  the  bladder  and  the 
stick,"  he  says,  "the  male  Grouse,  inflamed  with  jealousy, 
has  flown  directly  towards  me,  when,  being  prepared,  I  have 
easily  shot  it."  There  are  many  birds  which  may  be  decoyed 
by  a  faithful  imitation  of  their  notes. 

The  nest  of  this  beautiful  bird  is  associated  with  my  recol- 
lections of  childhood.  I  can  see  it  still,  a  slight  bed  of 
leaves,  on  the  ground,  under  a  fallen  tree,  in  the  wrild 
meadow.  How  the  gentle  wild  hen  would  sit,  till  we  chil- 
dren came  near  enough  to  touch  her,  sometimes  making  our 
calls  without  causing  the  least  disturbance.  The  eggs, 
about  a  dozen  in  number,  and  near  the  size  of  those  of  a 
pullet,  some  1.55  x  1.15,  are  brownish-white,  often  neatly 
spotted  and  specked  with  brown.  Well  do  I  remember,  too, 
the  stories  in  vogue  among  my  playmates,  as  to  the  cunning 
tricks  of  the  younglings  —  how  they  would  scamper  and  hide 
on  being  found,  turning  over  on  their  backs  and  pulling 
dried  leaves  over  them  for  concealment;  all  of  which  I 
believed  then,  but  long  since  have  come  to  doubt.  It  is  not 
the  perfection  of  the  concealment  which  I  have  come  to 
doubt,  for  that  is  beyond  question,  but  the  manner  of  that 
concealment.  The  truth  is  their  color  is  so  much  like  that 
of  the  dry  leaves,  and  they  are  either  so  motionless  or  so 
completely  tucked  away,  that  the  eye  cannot  detect  them. 
The  tender,  downy  little  creatures!  who  could  harm  them 
if  he  did  find  them!  I  once  came  upon  a  large  brood  just 


52  THE  RUFFED   GROUSE. 

hatched,  and  succeeded  in  catching  some  half-dozen;  but 
how  could  I  withstand  the  distress  of  the  mother-bird  as 
she  tossed  and  tumbled  over  and  over,  moaning  and  cluck- 
ing, sometimes  near  enough  to  be  touched  by  the  hand  I 
Like  Audubon,  when  he  emptied  the  young  Mallards  from 
his  game-bag,  I  was  completely  overcome  by  the  demon- 
stration of  maternal  anguish. 

But  the  most  affecting  of  all  was  to  hear  the  tender  cluck- 
ing call  of  the  mother,  and  the  soft  peeping  reply  of  the 
flock  of  little  ones,  as  soon  as  I  was  out  of  sight.  To  this 
moment  I  am  hoping  that  she  succeeded  in  getting  all  her 
young  family  safely  together,  after  so  rude  a  dispersion. 

Berries  of  all  kinds,  as  well  as  seeds,  are  the  food  of  this 
species;  and  when  these  are  scarce,  even  leaves  and  buds 
will  do,  and  especially  the  catkins  of  the  alder. 

The  Partridge,  in  its  several  varieties,  pretty  nearly  covers 
North  America,  our  variety  occupying  Canada  and  the 
Eastern  United  States  into  the  mountains  of  the  Carolinas. 
About  the  size  of  a  common  fowl,  with  a  graceful  crest  and 
fan-shaped  tail,  the  general  color  is  a  beautiful  brown,  vari- 
ously mottled  and  clouded  with  light  and  dark;  and  it  is 
readily  distinguished  by  its  bunch  of  glossy  black  plumes  on 
each  shoulder,  and  its  broad  band  of  black  across  the  end  of 
the  tail. 


CHAPTER   III. 
OPEN  WINTER. 

THE  frost  and  snow  of  early  winter  have  softened,  ere  the 
middle  of  the  season,  into  such  mild  days,  fields  so  green 
and  skies  so  tender,  that  one  almost  imagines  himself  in 
some  southern  clime.  Rain  falls  as  easily  as  in  April,  and 
the  air  is  laden  with  a  genial  vapor,  which  almost  threatens 
to  bring  out  the  buds. 

What  happy  moments  were  those  this  morning,  as  I  sat  in 
my  study,  by  the  large  window  facing  the  east,  and  watched 
the  coming  of  the  morning!  It  was  announced  by  a  delicate, 
rosy  tint,  stretching  like  a  band  along  the  horizon — a 
fringe,  where  the  deep  blue  touched  the  darkened  landscape. 
Anon,  the  lambent  flame  pervades  the  whole  chamber  of  the 
east,  transfiguring  space  itself,  and  strikingly  in  contrast 
with  the  clouds  in  the  foreground  —  still  sable  under  the 
shadows  of  retreating  night.  Now  these  dark  clouds  them- 
selves have  caught  the  glow,  and  are  soon  turned  into 
amber  and  gold.  The  rosy  flames  rise  higher  and  higher, 
till  they  touch  the  zenith;  and  now  a  broad  band  of  rich, 
transparent  green  unrolls  along  the  horizon,  and  the  whole 
heaven  is  aglow  with  the  glory  of  the  coming  day. 

THE    QUAIL.     , 

I  must  out,  and  away  to  the  woods!  Passing  through  a 
large  peach-orchard,  just  before  entering  a  beautiful,  park- 


54  THE   QUAIL. 

like  forest,  I  put  up  a  small  flock  of  Quails.  They  are  now 
a  rarity  in  Orleans  County,  New  York,  so  much  so  that  laws 
have  been  passed  in  this  and  adjoining  counties  giving  them 
special  protection  throughout  the  year.  But  who  could 
wantonly  injure  a  Quail?  This  is  surely  the  most  winning 
game-bird  in  our  land.  Who  can  blame  certain  tender- 
hearted little  children,  who  will  not  accept  any  apology 
whatever,  for  taking  the  life  of  one  of  them  ?  The  flight  of 
the  Quail  on  being  startled  is  quite  like  that  of  the  Partridge, 
except  that  it  does  not  generally  fly  so  far.  The  surprise  to 
the  observer,  however,  is  greater,  since  the  Quail  is  often  in 
quite  considerable  flocks,  whereas  the  Partridge  is  much 
less  gregarious.  Take  your  first  chance  for  a  shot  at  a  flock 
of  Quails,  for,  after  the  first  putting  up,  they  are  scattered 
and  very  shy.  Having  flown  in  every  direction,  they  en- 
sconce themselves  away  so  perfectly  that  they  are  not  to  be 
seen,  till  one  by  one  they  fly  up,  almost  from  under  foot;  or, 
if  the  whole  flock  start,  it  will  be  from  many  different  points 
in  the  vicinity,  and  so  they  will  afford  no  shot,  except  singly. 

The  following  citation  from  Audubon  is  so  well  worded, 
and  so  in  accord  with  the  facts,  that  I  shall  adopt  it  ver- 
batim: 

"When  an  enemy  is  perceived  they  immediately  utter  a 
lisping  note,  frequently  repeated,  and  run  off,  with  their  tail 
spread,  their  crest  erected,  and  their  wings  drooping,  towards 
the  shelter  of  some  thicket  or  the  top  of  a  fallen  tree.  At 
other  times,  when  one  of  the  flock  has  accidentally  strayed 
to  a  distance  from  its  companions,  it  utters  two  notes  louder 
than  any  of  those  mentioned  above,  the  first  shorter  and 
lower  than  the  second,  when  an  answer  is  immediately 
returned  by  one  of  the  pack.  This  species  has,  moreover, 
a  love-call,  which  is  louder  and  clearer  than  its  other  notes, 
and  can  be  heard  at  a  distance  of  several  hundred  yards.  It 


THE    QUAIL.  55 

consists  of  three  distinct  notes,  the  two  last  being  loudest, 
and  is  peculiar  to  the  bird.  A  fancied  similarity  to  the 
words  Bob  White  renders  this  call  familiar  to  the  Sportsman 
and  farmer;  but  these  notes  are  always  preceded  by  another, 
easily  heard  at  a  distance  of  thirty  or  forty  yards.  The  three 
together  resemble  the  words  ah  Bob  White.  The  first  note 
is  a  kind  of  aspiration,  and  the  last  is  very  loud  and  clear. 
This  wrhistle  is  seldom  heard  after  the  breeding  season,* 
during  which  an  imitation  of  the  peculiar  note  of  the  female 
will  make  the  male  fly  towards  the  sportsman,  who  may 
then  easily  shoot  it. 

"  In  the  Middle  Districts  the  love-call  of  the  male  is  heard 
about  the  middle  of  April,  and  in  Louisiana  much  earlier. 
The  male  is  seen  perched  on  a  fence-stake,  or  on  the  low 
branch  of  a  tree,  standing  nearly  in  the  same  position  for 
hours  together,  and  calling  ah  Bob  White  at  every  interval 
of  a  few  minutes.  Should  he  hear  the  note  of  a  female,  he 
sails  directly  towards  the  spot  whence  it  proceeded.  Several 
males  may  be  heard  from  different  parts  of  a  field  challeng- 
ing each  other,  and  should  they  meet  on  the  ground,  they 
fight  with  great  courage  and  obstinacy,  until  the  conqueror 
drives  off  his  antagonist  to  another  field. 

"  The  female  prepares  a  nest  composed  of  grasses,  arranged 
in  a  circular  form,  leaving  an  entrance  not  unlike  that  of  a 
common  oven.  It  is  placed  at  the  foot  of  a  tuft  of  rank 
grass  or  some  close  stalks  of  corn,  and  is  partly  sunk  in  the 
ground.  The  eggs,  10-15,  rather  sharp  at  the  smaller  end, 
are  white.  The  male  at  times  assists  in  hatching  them. 
This  species  raises  only  one  brood  in  the  year,  unless  the  eggs 
or  the  young  when  yet  small  have  been  destroyed.  When 
trfis  happens  the  female  immediately  prepares  another  nest; 
and  should  it  also  be  ravaged,  sometimes  even  a  third.  The 

*  I  have  heard  this  same  ditty  occasionally  in  the  pleasant  days  of  autumn. 


56  THE   QUAIL. 

young  run  about  the  moment  after  they  make  their  appear- 
ance, and  follow  their  parents  until  spring,  when,  having 
acquired  their  full  beauty,  they  pair  and  breed. 

"The  Partridge  (Quail)  rests  at  night  on  the  ground, 
either  amongst  the  grass  or  under  a  bent  log.  The  indi- 
viduals which  compose  the  flock  form  a  ring,  and  moving 
backwards,  approach  each  other  until  their  bodies  are  nearly 
in  contact.  This  arrangement  enables  the  whole  covey  to 
take  wing  when  suddenly  alarmed,  each  flying  off  in  a 
direct  course,  so  as  not  to  interfere  with  the  rest." 

A  straw-stack  in  the  field  in  winter  is  a  great  attraction  to 
the  Quail.  Here  flocks  may  be  seen  gleaning  the  stray  ker- 
nels of  grain;  and  nowhere  do  their  graceful  movements 
and  quiet  ways  appear  more  winning.  If  unmolested  and 
treated  with  a  little  kindly  consideration,  they  will  come 
even  to  the  barn-yard  and  share  the  fare  of  the  domestic 
fowl. 

Being  unsuspecting,  and  a  bird  of  the  fields,  the  pasture 
and  the  orchard,  it  is  the  victim  of  many  modes  of  capture. 
Moving  often  in  close  flocks,  many  may  be  taken  at  a  single 
shot;  a  figure-four  trap  may  take  a  number  at  a  time.  In 
this  way  a  lad  of  my  acquaintance  once  took  thirteen,  feed- 
ing them  under  the  trap,  and  taking  them  out  as  they 
were  needed  for  the  table.  Audubon  describes  a  method 
of  driving  them  into  a  net  in  large  numbers. 

The  predominant  color  of  the  Quail  is  a  bright  reddish- 
brown,  occasionally  streaked  with  black,  and  again  shading 
into  a  beautiful  gray,  white  beneath,  crossed  with  zigzag 
lines  of  black;  throat  of  the  female  brownish-yellow,  and 
that  of  the  male  white.  Smaller  than  a  common  bantam 
hen,  it  cannot  be  mistaken  in  Eastern  North  America. 

It  ranges  throughout  the  Eastern  United  States  to  a  little 
north  of  Massachusetts,  and  into  Canada  West  and  Minne- 


THE  NORTHERN  SHRIKE.  57 

sota.     Like  others  of  its  order,  it  is  particularly  a  seed  and 
grain-eating  bird. 

The  Partridge  and  the  Quail  belong  to  the  Gallinaceous 
or  Poultry  order  of  birds,  so  named  because  it  includes  our 
common  domestic  fowl.  They  are  for  the  most  part  a 
strongly  marked  order.  The  vaulted  upper  mandible,  with 
its  nostrils  at  the  base  and  "covered  by  a  cartilaginous 
scale;"  the  short,  rounded  wings;  the  breast-bone,  with  two 
such  deep  emarginations  on  each  side,  and  the  keel  so  cut 
away  in  front  as  to  reduce  it  to  a  mere  open  frame;  the 
heavy  flight;  the  simplicity  of  the  lower  larynx;  the  muscular 
gizzard  and  large  crop  —  are  all  points  of  differentiation 
which  cannot  easily  be  mistaken.  They  incubate  on  the 
ground,  having  a  simple  nest  and  a  large  number  of  eggs. 

THE    NORTHERN   SHRIKE. 

A  little  to  my  right  is  a  large  buttonwood  tree,  making  a 
marked  and  beautiful  contrast  with  the  rest  of  the  landscape, 
for  in  this  tree  there  is  no  brown  whatever,  the  trunk  and 
main  limbs  shaling  off  almost  to  a  pure  white,  and  the  spray 
being  nearly  black. 

To  an  ornithologist  a  tree  is  never  complete  without  a 
bird.  So  I  strain  my  eyes  to  detect  something  of  the  kind 
in  the  thick  branches,  and  am  not  disappointed.  In  the 
thickest  part  of  the  top,  sitting  almost  motionless,  is  a 
Northern  Shrike  or  Butcher  Bird  (Lanius  borealis).  Not 
far  from  the  size  of  a  Robin,  9-10  inches  long,  but  with  a 
much  larger  head  and  thicker  neck,  and  a  longer  tail,  its 
color  is  an  olivaceous  drab,  with  black  patches  from  the 
base  of  the  bill  back  across  the  eyes  and  down  the  sides  of 
the  neck;  wings  and  tail  black  with  white  markings;  under- 
neath white,  with  cross-pencilings  of  black.  But  this  color- 
ation varies  greatly  in  different  individuals,  the  white  some- 


58  THE  NORTHERN  SHRIKE. 

times  being  very  dull,  the  black  quite  brownish,  or,  if  both 
these  are  quite  clear,  the  drab  may  be  clear  and  bright,  con- 
taining nothing  of  the  olivaceous.  This  bird  is  an  inch 
longer  than  its  cousin,  the  White-rumped  Shrike,  the  latter 
being  a  very  common  summer  resident  here,  while  the 
former  generally  spends  only  the  milder  or  early  part  of  the 
winter  with  us;*  and  all  the  noise  we  ever  hear  from  it  in 
that  time  is  a  hoarse  scream,  reminding  one  a  little  of  a 
Hawk.  Generally  it  is  solitary,  but  sometimes  it  is  accom- 
panied by  a  mate.  It  must  pass  the  colder  part  of  the -win- 
ter a  little  farther  south,  but  is  back  again  on  its  way  north 
early  in  spring.  It  is  reported  as  spending  the  entire  winter 
in  the  vicinity  of  Mauch  Chunk,  Pennsylvania,  and  as 
making  its  winter  trips  as  far  south  as  35°. 

A  few  days  since,  while  spending  some  hours  with  one  of 
the  farmers  of  my  parish,  I  had  a  good  opportunity  to  note 
certain  habits  of  this  bird.  My  friend  was  drawing  in  corn- 
stalks from  the  field.  Several  of  these  Shrikes,  perched  in 
small  trees  scattered  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  seemed  bound 
to  keep  him  company.  Occasionally  one  would  fly  out  a 
short  distance  from  his  perch,  and  hover  in  quest  of  prey, 
precisely  in  the  manner  of  the  Sparrow  Hawk  (Falco  spar- 
verius).  Not  infrequently  a  mouse  would  start  out  on  remov- 
ing a  shock,  when  it  was  instantly  gobbled  up  by  the 
familiar,  sharp-eyed  bird.  On  removing  one  shock,  a  nest  of 
full-grown  rats  was  disturbed,  some  of  which  escaped  the 
farmer's  boot-heel  and  fork-tines.  Presently  I  heard  a  loud 
squeaking  in  a  corner  of  the  fence  near  by.  On  hurrying 
to  the  spot,  I  found  a  Shrike,  regaling  itself  on  one  of  the 
young  rats,  and  so  intent  on  its  meal  that,  though  I  was 
almost  near  enough  to  put  my  hand  on  it,  it  eyed 

*  If  it  be  very  mild  and  open,  the  Great  Northern  Shrike  may  remain  in  Western  New 
York  throughout  the  winter.  The  Loggerhead  is  a  southern  species  of  which  the  White- 
rump  is  a  variety. 


THE  NORTHERN  SHRIKE.  59 

me  hesitatingly  for  some  time  before  concluding  to 
leave. 

In  structure,  as  well  as  in  habit,  this  bird  is  quite  peculiar. 
Its  bill  is  not  a  little  like  that  of  a  Hawk,  while  its  feet  and 
claws,  as  well  as  its  general  figure,  are  very  much  like  those 
of  certain  birds  of  song;  consequently,  with  much  of  the 
bird  of  prey  in  its  manner,  it  is  still  ranked,  in  point  of 
structure,  between  the  Vireos  and  the  Finches.  It  will 
attack  a  Sparrow,  peck  out  its  brain,  lug  it  around  in  its 
beak,  and  make  a  meal  of  it  at  its  leisure,  as  readily  as  any  of 
the  Raptores,  while  in  feeding  it  is  in  general  as  truly  insectiv- 
orous as  that  of  the  most  innocent  song-bird.  Indeed,  its 
destruction  of  insect-life  is  altogether  uncommon.  It  does 
not  merely  consume  them  as  food,  but  has  a  certain  bar- 
barous habit  of  impaling  them  in  large  numbers  on  thorns, 
and  that  for  no  other  purpose  than  mere  wantonness,  as  it  is 
never  known  to  appropriate  them  afterward  as  food.  It  will 
sit  by  the  hour  in  the  presence  of  its  struggling  victims,  and 
seem  utterly  indifferent  to  their  tortures.  The  common 
European  Shrike  is  represented  as  impaling  small  birds  on 
thorns  in  a  similar  manner. 

Wilson  says:  "It  retires  to  the  north,  and  to  the  higher 
inland  parts  of  the  country  to  breed.  It  frequents  the  deep- 
est forests;  builds  a  targe  and  compact  nest  in  the  upright 
fork  of  a  small  tree,  composed  outwardly  of  dry  grass,  and 
whitish  moss,  and  warmly  lined  within  with  feathers.  The 
female  lays  six  eggs,  of  a  pale  cinerous  color,  thickly  marked 
at  the  greater  end  with  spots  and  streaks  of  rufous.  She 
sits  fifteen  days.  The  young  are  brought  out  early  in  June, 
sometimes  towards  the  end  of  May,  and  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  first  season  are  of  a  brown  ferruginous  color  on 
the  back." 


60  THE   CROW. 

THE    CROW. 

The  most  noticeable  bird  of  our  winter  landscape  is  the 
Common  Crow.  Neither  cold  nor  snow  can  drive  him 
away,  while,  in  mild  open  weather,  he  scorns  the  woods  and 
fields,  and  rises  high  in  air  against  the  passing  breeze,  as  if 
he  were  sole  lord  of  the  entire  region.  He  is  hardly  ever 
alone,  and  often  appears  in  quite  considerable  flocks,  some- 
times in  large  numbers.  To-day  he  is  stepping  about  the 
plowed  fields  and  meadows  with  all  his  wonted  stateliness. 
What  a  splendid  coat  of  glossy  black  he  wears!  He  appears 
quite  as  well  on  the  wing,  too,  as  on  the  ground,  moving 
with  a  steady,  graceful  energy,  even  in  the  raggedness  of 
his  moulting  period,  when  the  loss  of  main  pinions  is  seen 
in  the  formidable  gaps  of  either  wing.  Even  his  voice, 
though  very  much  lacking  in  compass  and  far  from  being 
really  musical,  has  a  vigor  and  a  significance  amidst  nature's 
sounds,  which  is  far  from  being  unpleasing.  In  short,  we 
could  easily  be  reconciled  to  him,  aye,  even  pleased  with 
him,  were  it  not  for  certain  of  his  thievish  and  cruel  habits 
of  diet. 

Firstly.  He  is  the  arch-disturber  of  the  corn-fields.  How 
the  farmer  is  obliged  to  tax  his  ingenuity  in  order  to 
secure  himself,  in  part  at  least,  against  his  depredations! 
In  that  delightful  book  by  Susan  Fenimore  Cooper,  entitled 
"Rural  Hours,"  is  a  little  paragraph  well  illustrating  the 
husbandman's  resources  in  this  respect.  In  her  diary  for 
the  4th  of  June  she  says:  "The  cornfields  are  now  well 
garnished  with  Scare-crows,  and  it  is  amusing  to  see  the 
different  devices  employed  for  the  purpose.  Bits  of  tin 
hung  upon  upright  sticks  are  very  general;  lines  of  white 
twine,  crossing  the  field  at  intervals  near  the  soil,  are  also 
much  in  favor,  and  the  Crows  are  said  to  be  particularly  shy 
of  this  sort  of  network;  other  fields  are  guarded  by  a  num- 


THE   CROW.  61 

her  of  little  whirligig  wind-mills.  One  large  field  that  we 
passed  evidently  belonged  to  a  man  of  great  resources  in 
the  way  of  expedients;  for,  among  a  number  of  contri- 
vances, no  two  were  alike;  in  one  spot,  large  as  life,  stood  the 
usual  man  of  straw ;  here  was  a  tin  pan  on  a  pole,  there  a 
sheet  was  flapping  its  full  breadth  in  the  breeze,  here  was  a 
straw  hat  on  a  stick,  there  an  old  flail ;  in  one  corner  a 
broken  tin  Dutch  oven  glittered  in  the  sunshine,  and  at  right 
angles  with  it  was  a  tambourine!  It  must  needs  be  a  bold 
Crow  that  will  venture  to  attack  such  a  camp."  Then  she 
adds  in  a  foot-note:  "This  field  yielded  ninety-three  bushels 
of  maize  to  the  acre  the  following  autumn." 

The  second  charge  to  be  brought  against  the  Crow  is  the 
destruction  of  other  birds'  nests.  Never  shall  I  forget  the 
unhappy  impression  he  made  upon  me  many  years  ago  in 
Nova  Scotia,  on  my  first  discovery  of  the  Snowbird's 
(Junco)  nest  containing  young  just  hatched.  The  nest 
was  under  the  bottom  rail  of  a  fence,  and  on  approaching  it 
the  second  time  I  discovered  a  Crow  in  the  act  of  gulping 
down  the  last  of  the  young.  Never  was  my  indignation 
over  a  bird  greater,  except  when,  in  my  childhood,  a  large 
Hawk  carried  off  my  black  chicken.  "  The  most  remarka- 
ble feat  of  the  Crow,"  says  Audubon,  "  is  the  nicety  with 
which  it,  like  the  Jay,  pierces  an  egg  with  its  bill,  in  order 
to  carry  it  off,  and  eat  it  with  security.  In  this  manner  I 
have  seen  it  steal,  one  after  another,  all  the  eggs  of  a  wild 
Turkey's  nest."  "  In  spring,"  says  Wilson,  "when  he  makes 
his  appearance  among  the  groves  and  low  thickets,  all  the 
feathered  songsters  are  instantly  alarmed,  well  knowing  the 
depredations  and  murders  he  commits  on  their  nests,  eggs, 
and  young." 

But,  as  in  the  case  of  many  other  transgressors,  there  are 
some  weighty  things  to  be  said  in  his  favor.  In  the  same 


62  THE   CROW. 

field  from  which  he  steals  the  corn,  he  destroys  many  noxious 
worms  and  insects,  especially  cut- worms;  not  to  speak  of  the 
snakes,  moles  and  mice,  whose  career  is  cut  short  by  him. 
Besides,  to  the  unprejudiced  lover  of  nature,  his  presence 
adds  beauty  and  character  to  the  landscape. 

Between  the  good  services  and  the  mischief  done  by  the 
Crow,  Wilson,  Audubon,  and  most  other  ornithologists, 
have  found  a  large  balance  in  his  favor,  while  some,  as 
Samuels,  for  instance,  are  well  convinced  that  his  depre- 
dations on  crops,  and  more  especially  his  destruction  of  the 
nests  and  young  of  the  smaller  and  more  useful  birds,  can- 
not be  compensated  by  any  good  and  useful  office  which  it 
is  possible  for  him  to  fill.  The  latter  view  is  the  one  more 
in  harmony  with  the  sentiment  of  the  common  people; 
hence,  in  various  times  and  places,  premiums  have  been 
offered  for  his  head,  as  in  the  case  of  the  more  destructive 
beasts  of  prey.  In  consequence  of  this,  the  number  destroyed 
in  a  single  State  in  a  season  has  been  as  high  as  40,000; 
and  Wilson  tells  us  that,  during  a  winter  of  "  long-continued, 
deep  snow,  more  than  six  hundred  Crows  were  shot  on  the 
carcass  of  a  dead  horse,  which  was  placed  at  a  proper  dis- 
tance from  the  stable,  from  a  hole  of  which  the  discharges 
were  made.  The  premiums  awarded  for  these,  with  the 
price  paid  for  the  quills,  produced  nearly  as  much  as  the 
original  value  of  the  horse,  besides,  as  the  man  himself 
assured  me,  saving  feathers  sufficient  for  filling  a  bed." 

But  whatever  the  public  sentiment  may  be,  no  bird  is 
better  able  to  take  care  of  itself  than  the  Crow.  Go  into  the 
field  or  forest,  and  steal  a  shot  at  it  if  you  can!  Under  all 
ordinary  circumstances,  its  keen  eye  and  vigilant  caution 
are  a  full  match  for  its  enemies.  I  do  not  see  how  Wilson's 
school-boy  ever  secured  for  him  a  basket  of  Crows.  If  one 
of  my  young  friends  shoots  one  over  the  carcass  of  a  dead 


THE   CROW.  63 

sheep,  pointing  his  gun  through  a  loop-hole  in  the  barn — and 
that  did  happen  once — I  consider  that  he  does  well. 

Though  not  a  few  of  the  Crows  remain  here  over  winter; 
many  more  appear  to  go  south,  where  they  congregate  in 
immense  flocks,  and  are  very  destructive. 

The  unfrequented  evergreen  woods  of  Goat  Island  at 
Niagara  Falls,  in  winter,  and  the  steep,  forest-clad  slopes 
of  the  inaccessible  gorge  from  the  Falls  to  Queenstown 
Heights,  throughout  the  year,  are  famous  roosting  places  for 
the  Crows.  Here  they  may  be  seen  at  night-fall  in  almost 
countless  numbers,  streaming  in  in  long  processions  from 
all  the  region  round  about. 

The  Crow's  ordinary  note,  khrah,  khrah,  khrah,  with  a 
strong,  guttural  sound  before  the  vowel,  is  familiar  to  every 
one.  In  the  month  of  April,  in  New  York,  when  the  males 
are  winning  the  females,  the  former  will  perch  on  some  limb 
of  a  tall  tree  in  the  forest,  and  bowing  most  obsequiously, 
will  utter  in  a  low,  deep  tone  the  syllables,  Chow-ow-ow-ow, 
chow-ow-ow-ow. 

In  respect  to  diet  this  species  may  be  called  omnivorous; 
stripping  the  sour  cherry-tree  of  its  abundant  crop,  stealing 
a  chicken,  lighting  on  the  backs  of  cattle  to  devour  the 
larvae  of  the  gad-fly  under  their  skin,  or  regaling,  in  vast 
numbers,  on  offensive  carrion,  as  readily  as  it  would  feast  on 
insects  and  corn. 

The  Crow  is  a  most  annoying  enemy  of  the  Hawks  and 
the  Owls.  As  kingly  a  bird  as  the  Red-tailed  Hawk,  can 
find  no  peace  in  his  presence.  Driven  from  his  lordly  perch 
among  tall  trees,  I  have  seen  him  condescend  to  alight 
among  the  tall  grass  of  the  meadow,  as  if  to  hide  himself 
away  from  persecution;  but  here  the  Crows  would  dive 
into  his  face,  and,  with  the  most  persistent  impudence,  com- 
pel him  to  take  shelter  in  some  distant  wood. 


64  THE   CROW. 

One  day  last  April,  while  lying  under  a  bush  by  a  stream, 
and  in  the  edge  of  a  forest,  in  watch  of  ducks,  I  was  startled 
by  a  stentorious  demonstration  near  by  among  the  Crows. 
Looking  up  I  saw  an  immense  tree-top  literally  black  with 
them.  The  object  of  their  indignation,  to  which  every  head 
was  turned,  was  a  Great  Horned  Owl,  which  sat  staring  and 
blinking  in  the  middle  of  the  tree.  Evidently  their  bowing 
in  concert  with  raised  wings,  and  cawing  enough  to  tear 
their  throats,  were  anything  but  agreeable  to  him.  The  roar 
might  have  been  heard  a  mile  or  more  away,  as  each  poured 
forth  his  volume  of  charges  against  this  goggling,  glimmer- 
ing Night-watch.  Presently,  several  dashed  at  him  with 
wide-spread  wings,  when  he  rose  and  beat  away  through 
the  tree-tops,  followed  by  the  long  and  deafening  train  of 
black  persecutors.  Alighting  low  down  among  the  hem- 
locks, he  was  as  bitterly  attacked  as  before;  and  though  he 
moved  thus  several  times,  until  he  was  more  than  a  mile 
away,  I  could  still  hear  the  same  noisy  demonstrations  of 
bitter  and  persistent  ill-will. 

The  nest,  which  is  well  hidden  in  the  forest,  and  made 
early  in  spring,  is  composed  of  sticks,  interwoven  and  lined 
with  grasses,  and  sometimes  with  considerable  horse-hair 
and  other  soft  materials,  there  being  almost  invariably  some 
dark  mould  in  the  bottom,  perhaps  to  keep  it  cool.  It  is 
generally  placed  pretty  well  up  in  a  tree,  and  contains  from 
four  to  six  eggs,  of  a  light  green,  spotted  and  blotched  with 
blackish  brown,  and  about  the  size  of  a  small  hen's  egg, 
some  1.70  X  1.20.  On  Manitoulin  Island  and  in  the  vicinity 
I  found  the  Crow's  nests  in  immense  numbers.  Indeed,  they 
were  much  more  common  than  the  nest  of  any  other  bird. 

Can  the  Crow  learn  to  talk?  To  this  I  have  but  one 
authoritative  answer.  A  very  intelligent  and  estimable 
lady,  the  daughter  of  a  frontier  missionary  in  the  early 


THE   CROW.  65 

days  of  Kansas,  tells  me  that  she  has  heard  a  Crow  talk. 
An  Indian  used  to  visit  the  mission  station,  bringing  with 
him  one  of  these  birds  tamed,  with  the  tongue  split,  and 
able  to  mimic  distinctly  quite  a  number  of  words,  as  also 
to  originate  little  sentences  of  his  own.  During  one  of 
these  Indian  visits,  a  patch  of  land  connected  with  the 
statioH  was  being  plowed.  The  Crow,  with  his  bright 
red  ribbon  tied  around  him  and  trailing  on  the  ground,  was 
busy  picking  up  the  insects,  when  our  lady,  then  a  little 
girl,  along  with  her  sisters,  was  trying  to  catch  the  ends  of 
ribbon.  Just  as  their  tiny  hands  were  about  to  grasp  them, 
the  wily  Crow  would  spring  forward,  thus  eluding  their 
grasp,  and  looking  back  would  tauntingly  say,  "You  didn't, 
did  you  ?"  Well  done  for  a  Crow  ! 

At  Pittsburgh,  Audubon  once  saw  a  pair  of  Crows  per- 
fectly white.  Also  a  trusty  parishioner  of  mine  testifies 
that  some  years  since  he  was  accustomed,  for  some  time,  to 
see  a  pure  white  Crow  leading  the  flock  from  one  block  of 
woods  on  his  farm  to  another. 

The  home  of  our  Crow  is  throughout  temperate  North 
America  to  55°,  excepting  the  central  plains  and  southern 
Rocky  Mountains. 


CHAPTER    IV. 
BELOW    ZERO. 

SUDDEN  changes  are  common  to  this  climate.  Immedi- 
ately following  our  open  winter  weather  comes  a  fall  of 
temperature  below  zero,  with  just  snow  enough  on  a  smooth- 
worn,  hard-frozen  road  to  make  the  sleighs  slip  easily. 
The  snow  crunches  under  foot,  and,  what  is  rather  uncom- 
mon here,  the  trees  and  buildings  resound  with  a  strange 
snapping,  almost  equal  to  the  report  of  a  pistol,  as  if  the 
nails  in  the  buildings  were  springing  out  and  the  trunks  of 
the  trees  were  bursting  asunder  —  sounds  very  mysterious  to 
me  in  my  childhood,  but  now  understood  to  be  caused  by 
an  expansion,  on  the  freezing  of  water  contained  in  the 
crevices  of  the  trees  or  in  the  little  exposed  cavities  of 
buildings. 

THE    SNOWY    OWL. 

There  is  something  peculiarly  exhilarating  in  this  kind  of 
weather.  Everybody  moves  as  if  in  a  hurry;  and,  notwith- 
standing the  cold,  one  discovers  a  strong  inclination  to  be 
out.  I  am  once  more  on  my  way  to  the  favorite  woods 
beyond  the  peach  orchard,  gun  in  hand.  As  I  move  briskly 
along  that  part  of  the  orchard  bordering  on  the  forest,  I  put 
up  a  large  bird,  almost  as  white  as  the  snow  itself.  The 
spread  of  its  wings  and  tail  is  immense,  and  its  flight  is  so 
noiseless  and  dignified  that  one  might  almost  think  it  some 
living  spiritual  impersonation  of  winter.  I  take  aim,  and 


THE   SNOWY  OWL.  67 

down  it  tumbles  headforemost  into  the  snow.  But  it  is  only 
winged;  so,  taking  it  by  the  wings  stretched  over  the  back, 
I  carry  it  home  to  surprise  the  family.  That  it  is  a  female 
is  to  be  inferred  from  its  great  size  and  from  its  more 
numerous  dark  markings;  the  male  of  this  species  being 
sometimes  so  free  of  the  dark  spots  as  to  appear  pure  white, 
and  the  greater  size  of  the  female  being  peculiar  to  birds  of 
prey. 

Little  children  are  apt  naturalists,  and  have  many 
questions  to  ask  on  an  occasion  like  this,  so  I  use  my  bird 
for  an  object-lesson.  I  call  their  attention  to  the  large 
head,  peculiar  to  the  Owls  among  birds;  and,  turning  the 
round,  weird,  half-human  face  fully  before  them,  call  their 
attention  to  the  large  eyes  fairly  in  front,  while  the  eyes  of 
other  birds  are  on  the  sides  of  the  head;  point  to  the  circle 
of  fringed  feathers  around  the  eyes,  part  of  which  nearly 
covers  the  bill,  and  part  of  which  laps  over  the  immense 
ear-hole;  and  note  the  eye-lashes,  so  strange  among  birds 
This  large,  round,  cat-like  face,  having  also  an  almost 
human  aspect,  is  at  once  the  weirdest  and  the  most  highly 
sensitive.  It  is  all  eye  and  ear,  stealthily  confronting  every 
sound  that  may  break  the  stillness  of  the  night,  and  every 
object  that  may  loom  up  in  the  gloaming  or  the  darkness. 

"  Do  you  see  how  the  outer  web  of  the  outer  wing-feathers 
or  primaries  is  recurved,  as  if  it  had  been  firmly  brushed 
backwards?"  I  asked  my  little  girl.  "What's  that  for?" 
she  inquired  curiously.  "  So  that  it  can  fly  without  making 
any  noise,"  I  replied;  "that  arrangement  of  the  outer  web, 
as  also  the  general  softness  and  looseness  of  the  plumage, 
muffles  the  stroke  of  the  wing,  and  enables  the  bird  to  steal 
upon  its  prey  in  the  still  hours  of  the  night  without  alarm- 
ing it.  All  the  Owls,  being  night-birds  of  prey,  have  this 
modification  of  the  wing."  "  O-o-o-o-oh!  see  that  hole  in 


68  THE   SNOWY  OWL. 

his  face!"  exclaimed  my  little  boy,  as  I  raised  those  long, 
loose  feathers,  arranged  in  the  manner  of  a  disk  on  the  cheek 
of  this  bird.  "That  is  his  ear,"  I  said;  "all  Owls  have  their 
ears  in  their  cheeks."  "  That's  a  wonderfully  big  ear,  I 
think;  what  does  he  have  it  covered  up  for?"  he  queried. 
"  That  is  the  fashion  with  birds;  they  generally  have  their 
ears  covered,"  I  replied.  "  Should  think  he'd  want  to  have 
such  a  hole  in  his  face  covered,"  he  continued.  "  He's  got 
his  face  well  wrapped  up,"  said  my  little  girl,  as  I  parted 
the  thick  mass  of  feathers  covering  the  face  and  the  black 
bill  almost  to  the  very  tip.  "Shouldn't  think  his  feet  'ud 
get  cold  either  with  such  stockings.  I  wish  he'd  let  me 
have  'em  for  my  dolly  this  cold  weather!" 

This  bird  is,  indeed,  most  wonderfully  protected  againt 
the  cold.  Not  only  are  the  feet  and  legs  so  thickly  covered 
with  a  long,  dense,  hair-like  plumage,  that  the  great,  black 
claws  are  almost  concealed,  but  the  entire  plumage  of  the 
body  beneath  the  surface  is  of  the  most  downy  and  elastic 
kind,  and  so  thickly  matted  together  that  it  is  almost  proof 
against  the  smaller  kind  of  ammunition. 

"Wish  I  had  some  of  them  for  my  doll's  hat ! "  continued 
the  little  girl,  as  I  plucked  off  a  few  of  the  ostrich-like 
plumes  from  the  lower  part  of  the  body. 

Wilson  notes  a  peculiarity  of  the  eye  of  this  bird,  and  of 
the  Owls  generally.  He  says:  "The  globe  of  the  eye  is 
immovably  fixed  in  its  socket  by  a  strong,  elastic,  hard,, 
cartilaginous  case,  in  form  of  a  truncated  cone;  this  case, 
being  closely  covered  with  a  skin,  appears,  at  first,  to  be  of 
one  continued  piece;  but,  on  removing  the  exterior  mem- 
brane, it  is  found  to  be  formed  of  fifteen  pieces,  placed  like 
the  staves  of  a  cask,  overlapping  a  little  at  the  base  or  nar- 
row end,  and  seems  as  if  capable  of  being  enlarged  or  con- 
tracted, perhaps  by  the  muscular  membrane  with  which 


THE   SNOWY  OWL.         .  69 

they  are  encased.  *  *  The  eye  being  thus  fixed, 

these  birds,  as  they  view  different  objects,  are  always 
obliged  to  turn  the  head;  and  nature  has  so  excellently 
adapted  their  neck  to  this  purpose  that  they  can,  with  ease, 
turn  it  round,  without  moving  the  body,  in  almost  a  com- 
plete circle."* 

The  Snowy  Owl  is  a  bird  of  the  Arctic  regions.  Common 
in  the  extreme  north  of  both  continents,  it  is  ever  at  home 
amidst  ice  and  snow;  migrating  southward  in  winter, 
regularly  into  the  New  England  and  the  Middle  States,  and 
casually  even  to  the  extreme  Southern  States,  breeding,  ac- 
cording to  the  best  authorities,  as  far  south  as  the  Canadas, 
and  probably  even  in  the  north  of  Maine.  I  am  not  sure 
but  it  may  rarely  breed  here;  for,  as  late  as  the  7th  of  May, 
1877,  two  were  seen  in  the  vicinity  of  Lockport,  N.  Y.,  one 
of  which  was  shot  and  brought  to  me  —  a  fine  old  male. 
The  nest  is  said  to  be  on  the  ground,  in  which  are  laid 
''three  or  four  white  eggs,  measuring  about  2^6  inches  in 
length  by  2  in  breadth."  Mr.  Fortiscue  says  that  at  York 
Factory,  Hudson's  Bay,  it  goes  north  in  summer. 

According  to  Wilson,  "the  usual  food  of  this  species 
is  said  to  be  hares,  grouse,  rabbits,  ducks,  mice,  and 
even  carrion.  Unlike  most  of  its  tribe,  it  hunts  by  day  as 
well  as  by  twilight,  and  is  particularly  fond  of  frequenting 
the  shores  and  banks  of  shallow  rivers,  over  the  surface  of 
which  it  slowly  sails,  or  sits  on  a  rock  a  little  raised  above 
the  water,  watching  the  fish.  These  it  seizes  with  a  sudden 
and  instantaneous  stroke  of  the  foot,  seldom  missing  its  aim." 

In  my  parish  it  has  been  known  to  attack  the  hens  in 
the  barn-yard  in  broad  daylight. 

This  bird  cannot  be  mistaken;  nearly  or  about  two  feet 
long,  white,  with  more  or  less  scattered  and  lunated  spots  of 

*  This,  however,  is  a  characteristic  structure  of  the  eye  of  birds  generally. 


70  WHITE-BREASTED  NUTHATCH. 

dark  brown  or  dusky,  thickest  on  the  back,  not  found  on  the 
legs  and  feet;  eyes,  bright  golden  yellow;  feet  and  claws, 
black. 

I  must  not  close  my  account  of  this  bird  without  giving 
a  striking  incident  reported  to  me  by  a  most  venerable  and 
trustworthy  old  gentleman  in  my  church,  who  was  person- 
ally acquainted  with  the  party,  and  to  whom  the  facts  were 
well  authenticated  at  the  time.  About  fifty  years  ago,  in 
the  town  of  Milford,  Otsego  County,  N.  Y.,  a  man,  on  pass- 
ing through  a  woods  in  the  night,  was  twice  knocked  down 
by  some  strange  power  in  the  air;  and,  securing  a  club  in 
time  for  the  third  rencounter,  killed  a  large  Snowy  Owl, 
which,  by  this  time,  had  knocked  his  hat  full  of  holes,  and 
sorely  bruised  his  head. 

WHITE-BREASTED    NUTHATCH. 

"All  times  are  good  times  to  go  a-shooting."  So  says 
Dr.  Coues;  and  knowing  it  to  be  so,  I  am  again  in  the 
woods  on  this  cold  day. 

I  am  struck,  on  entering,  with  the  deserted  look  of  the 
forest,  and  all  the  more  on  account  of  having  seen  this 
same  spot,  so  many  times,  in  all  the  life  and  splendor  of 
summer — the  trees  in  their  marvelous  robes  of  verdure, 
the  wild  flowers  in  all  their  grace  and  beauty,  the  birds  in 
the  full  animation  and  song  of  spring.  The  wondrous 
power  of  memory  reproduces  in  an  instant  all  this  combi- 
nation, with  its  delightful  associations  of  coolness  and  fra- 
grance. Now  the  trees  are  bare,  the  flowers  are  perished, 
and  the  birds  are  gone;  and  how  different  is  the  solemn 
sough  of  the  winter  wind  through  leafless  trees  to  the 
musical  rustle  of  the  summer  breeze  amidst  the  foliage! 
Did  I  say  the  birds  are  gone?  No;  not  entirely.  Quank, 
quank,  quank.  That  note,  so  much  louder  in  winter  than  in 


WHITE-BREASTED  NUTHATCH.  71 

summer,  for  the  same  reason  that  sounds  are  louder  in  the 
night  than  in  day-time — that  sound,  half  guttural,  half 
nasal,  and  on  a  low  key,  is  one  of  the  most  familiar  in  our 
woods  throughout  the  year.  It  is  the  language  of  the 
White-breasted  Nuthatch  (Sitta  carolinensis],  a  bird  so  com- 
mon here  as  to  be  familiar  to  every  woodman,  though  he 
may  have  no  better  name  for  it  than  Sapsucker,  and  may 
know  no  more  about  it  than  to  suppose  the  name  charac- 
teristic of  its  habits.  But  this  bird  is  thus  greatly  misun- 
derstood, for  while  it  is  supposed  to  be  living  upon  the  sap 
of  the  tree,  it  is  simply  gleaning  noxious  insects  and  their 
eggs  and  larvae. 

Whatever  may  be  the  woodman's  opinion  of  the  bird,  its 
presence  affords  him  pleasure  on  a  bleak  winter's  day, 
partly  because  it  is  often  his  only  relief  from  solitude,  and 
partly  because  the  bird  is  a  pleasing  object  in  itself.  How 
gracefully  it  moves  along  the  trunk  of  yonder  tree !  A 
slight  halt  every  few  steps,  it  goes  in  a  spiral  direction, 
head  up  or  down,  moving  forward,  backward,  or  sidewise 
with  equal  convenience,  every  now  and  then  pausing  with 
its  downward  head  and  bill  in  a  horizontal  position,  as  if 
listening  intently,  and  then  taking  up  its  note  as  it  passes 
on,  as  if  to  express  its  sense  of  safety  and  satisfaction. 
With  this  note  it  can  favor  one  as  readily  on  a  frosty  day 
in  winter  as  in  the  genial  days  of  spring.  Then,  however,  it 
makes  quite  an  attempt  at  a  song,  uttering  a  tway-tway-tivay- 
tway-tway,  quite  rapidly,  and  with  much  spirit,  as  it  threads  its 
way  in  the  leafless  trees  on  a  bright  April  morning.  Occa- 
sionally it  will  utter  in  an  undertone  a  soft  "tsink,  tsink"  or 
"kip,  kip"  Sometimes  it  will  alight  on  the  ground,  appar- 
ently to  catch  something  which  it  has  spied  from  a  distance; 
or,  for  a  few  minutes,  it  will  search  the  ground  after  the 
manner  of  the  Golden-winged  Woodpecker.  The  name 


72  WHITE-BREASTED  NUTHATCH. 

Nuthatch,  though  rather  far-fetched,  is  not  altogether  inap- 
plicable. Holding  an  acorn  or  chestnut  in  a  bark-crevice, 
or  in  a  chink  of  a  fence-rail,  it  will  hammer  it  with  its  sharp- 
pointed  bill  till  it  opens  up  the  contents.  This  is  done, 
however,  on  account  of  the  larvae  burrowing  in  the  fruit 
rather  than  for  the  fruit  itself,  for  the  bird  is  at  all  times 
strictly  insectivorous.  Then  its  form  and  color,  too,  are  as 
pleasing  as  its  movements.  About  six  inches  long,  bill  f6  of 
an  inch;  head  and  bill  together,  about  \%  inch  long;  tail, 
short;  wings,  long;  the  breadth  across  the  shoulders  giving 
it  a  somewhat  flat  appearance;  bluish  ash  over  the  back, 
the  outer  webbing  of  the  black  wings  edged  with  the  same, 
also  the  two  middle  tail  feathers;  the  rest  black,  marked 
with  white;  head  and  back  of  neck  in  male,  glossy  black; 
in  the  female,  black  and  ash  mixed;  whole  under  parts  and 
sides  of  head,  grayish-white  —  this  bird  cannot  be  mistaken. 
Its  long  hind  toe  and  claw  must  be  of  great  service  in  its 
downward  movements. 

The  Eastern  United  States  and  the  British  Provinces  are 
given  as  its  habitat.  Its  nesting  habits  are  similar  to  those 
of  the  Chickadee;  commonly  on  higher  ground,  however, 
and  the  cavity  chosen  or  excavated  higher  up  in  the  stub  or 
decaying  tree,  sometimes  as  high  as  thirty  or  forty  feet;  the 
eggs  being  a  little  larger  and  more  thickly  marked. 

A  set  of  five  eggs  in  Professor  Ward's  cabinet  at  Roches- 
ter, N.  Y.,  from  Saratoga  Springs,  averages  about  .50  x  .75 
inch,  are  porcelain-white,  with  a  few  spots,  or  rather  brush- 
touches,  of  dark-greenish  or  ocherous-yellow,  at  the  large 
end — elegant!  By  the  9th  of  June  I  have  seen  the  parents 
feeding  the  young  well  able  to  fly.  The  latter  strongly 
resembled  the  mature  female,  except  that  the  white  on  the 
cheeks  and  sides  of  the  neck  extended  further  upward,  leav- 
ing the  dark  band  over  the  crown  and  hind  neck  very  nar- 


-    THE  BL  UE  JA  Y.  73 

row.  Great  care  is  shown  these  younglings  by  the  parents 
in  training  them  to  creep  and  fly,  and  in  feeding  them  most 
assiduously  till  quite  mature.  Indeed,  the  whole  family 
seem  not  infrequently  to  remain  together  throughout  the 
first  year. 

THE    RED-BELLIED    NUTHATCH. 

Very  similar  to  the  above  in  appearance  and  habit  is  the 
Red-bellied  Nuthatch  (Sitta  canadensis),  except  that  it  is 
quite  a  little  smaller,  scarcely  five  inches  long,  has  a  white 
line  over  the  eye,  and  the  under  parts  of  a  pale  rust-red. 
The  female  has  the  black  about  the  head  replaced  with  dark 
slate  or  dusky.  The  notes  of  this  species  are  on  a  little 
higher  key  than  those  of  Carolinensis,  and  its  nest  and 
eggs  are  precisely  like  those  of  the  Chickadee.  It  is  north- 
erly, passing  through  New  York  State  late  in  April  and 
early  in  May,  and  again  in  September  and  October.  Its 
breeding  habitat  begins  in  the  northern  parts  of  the  State, 
extending  through  northern  New  England  and  into  the 
•British  Provinces. 

The  little  Brown-headed  Nuthatch  (Sitta  pusilla),  some 
4.25  long  and  differentiated  by  its  elegant  brown  head  and 
white  spot  on  the  nape,  is  a  resident  of  the  Southern  States. 
There  the  sunny  pine  forests  echo  its  note — " each,  each, 
each" — its  nesting  and  habits  in  general  being  quite  similar 
to  those  of  our  Nuthatches  above  described. 

THE    BLUE    JAY. 

The  thermometer  continues  near  zero.  Large  windows 
are  now  truly  objects  of  beauty,  their  frosted  patterns  being 
inimitable.  The  larger  figures  remind  one  of  ferns,  or  forest 
trees  in  miniature;  some  are  like  thin  snow-flakes  of  varied 
size  and  pattern,  some  like  delicate  lines  fringed  mostly  at 
right  angles;  others  are  simply  granulated  with  exquisitely 


74  THE  BLUE  JA  Y. 

scrolled  borders,  while  others  still  are  suggestive  of  land- 
scapes and  pictures  —  all  so  delicate  as  to  impress  one  forci- 
bly with  the  spirituality  of  the  laws  which  govern  matter. 


THE    BLUE  JAY. 

What  a  study  it  would  be  for  the  physicist  to  determine  the 
variations  possible  on  the  one  plan  of  crystallization  of  water 
at  an  angle  of  60°! 

To-day  I  came  into  possession  of  a  bird,  the  brilliant  col- 
ors of  which  are  strikingly  in  contrast  with  the  plainness  of 
winter.  The  Blue  Jay  (Cyanurus  cristatus)  is  one  of  our  win- 
ter residents,  not  so  generally  distributed  as  in  most  parts 
of  our  country,  but  quite  common  to  certain  low,  timbered 
lands,  where  it  is  permanent,  and  breeds  in  considerable 
numbers. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  characteristic  birds  of  Eastern 
North  America.  Who  does  not  know  the  Blue  Jay?  About 
a  foot  long,  five  inches,  or  near  one-half  his  length,  is  meas- 
ured by  his  tail;  well  proportioned,  crested  and  fan-tailed, 
his  form  is  elegant  and  his  bearing  stately;  his  various  and 


THE  BLUE  JAY.  75 

delicately-shaded  tints  of  blue,  the  jet-black  bars  and  snow- 
white  tips  of  the  wing  and  tail  feathers,  the  black  band  from 
the  back  of  the  crest  down  the  sides  of  the  neck  and  meet- 
ing on  the  breast,  and  thus  being  most  noticeable  on  the 
subdued  grayish- white  of  the  cheeks  and  underparts — are 
all  in  the  most  marked  and  pleasing  contrast.  No  colored 
portrait  which  I  have  ever  seen  is  anything  more  than  a 
coarse  caricature  of  the  purplish-blue  of  the  crest  and  back, 
the  brownish-blue  on  the  tail,  and  delicate  shadings  of  rich 
indigo,  ultra-marine  and  light  azure  on  the  wings.  A  single 
feather  of  the  wing  or  tail,  dropped  in  the  pasture,  used  to 
excite  my  childish  curiosity  and  love  of  beauty.  Looking 
merely  at  his  size  and  gay  dress,  who  would  suspect  him  to 
be  a  member  of  the  Crow  family  ?  Surely  he  is  a  favorite 
arrayed  in  a  coat  of  many  colors.  Not  only  is  he  elegant  in 
form  and  gay  in  apparel,  but  every  motion  indicates  a  proud, 
self-consciousness  and  love  of  display.  Even  his  flight, 
which  is  straightforward  and  steady,  is  showy  rather  than 
rapid.  When  alighted,  he  stands  upright,  with  elevated 
crest,  and  all  his  movements  show  an  air  of  vanity  and  self- 
complacency. 

His  notes  are  many  and  various.  His  common,  saucy- 
squealing,  chay,  chay,  chay,  which,  no  doubt,  gave  him  his 
name  in  part — the  other  part  being  derived  from  his  color 
—  must  be  familiar  to  all  who  know  him.  "PwUhilly>pwii- 
hily"  and  " chillack,  chillack"  are  among  his  other  more 
common  utterances,  while  a  sort  of  creaking,  clucking 
sound  may  be  regarded  as  his  love-call.  He  is  capable  of 
imitating  many  birds,  and  there  is  some  authority  for  assert- 
ing that  he,  true  to  his  crow-nature,  has  even  been  taught 
to  imitate  words.  He  is  especially  fond  of  teasing.  Wilson 
says:  "He  is  not  only  bold  and  vociferous,  but  possesses  a 
considerable  talent  for  mimicry,  and  seems  to  enjoy  great 


70  THE  BLUE  JAY. 

satisfaction  in  mocking  and  teasing  other  birds,  particularly 
the  Little  Hawk  (F.  sparverius),  imitating  his  cry  whenever 
he  sees  him,  and  squealing  out  as  if  caught;  this  soon 
brings  a  number  of  his  own  tribe  around  him,  who  all  join 
in  the  frolic,  darting  about  the  Hawk,  and  feigning  the  cries 
of  a  bird  sorely  wounded  and  already  under  the  clutches 
of  its  devourer;  while  others  lie  concealed  in  the  bushes, 
ready  to  second  their  associates  in  the  attack.  But  this  ludi- 
crous farce  often  terminates  tragically.  The  Hawk,  singling 
out  one  of  the  most  insolent  and  provoking,  sweeps  upon 
him  in  an  unguarded  moment,  and  offers  him  up  a  sacrifice 
to  his  hunger  and  resentment.  In  an  instant  the  tune  is 
changed;  all  their  buffoonery  vanishes,  and  loud  and  inces- 
sant screams  proclaim  their  disaster." 

Like  his  near  relative,  the  Crow,  he  takes  delight  in  tor- 
menting the  Owls. 

But  lacking  as  the  Blue  Jay  is  in  anything  like  gentle  or 
winning  ways,  he  might  still  meet  with  a  fair  toleration 
were  it  not  for  his  thievish  and  cruel  habits.  How  he  will 
devour  the  fresh  eggs  from  the  bird's  nests  in  his  neighbor- 
hood on  the  sly,  gobble  up  even  the  tender  young,  some- 
times in  his  barbarous  daintiness  taking  nothing  but  the 
eyes  and  brain!  how  he  will  pick  out  the  eyes  of  a  wounded 
grouse;  how  he  will  steal  corn  from  the  bin,  fruit  from  the 
garden,  and  grain  from  the  barn,  has  been  noted  by  orni- 
thologists in  general.  I  have  seen  him  lugging  around  an  old 
sparrow  in  the  tops  of  the  trees,  in  the  month  of  May,  pick- 
ing out  the  eyes  and  brain  at  his  leisure,  and  seemingly 
without  the  least  compunction;  while,  like  all  other  tyrants, 
when  the  true  test  comes,  he  is  by  no  means  brave,  often 
"  turning  tail  "  to  birds  much  smaller  than  himself.  In  view 
of  all  this,  who  will  pity  him  when,  during  the  long  winter 
months,  he  is  obliged  to  subsist  on  the  frozen  apples  of  the 


THE   GOLDEN-WINGED    WOODPECKER.  77 

orchard,  or,  at  other  times  of  scarcity,  to  glean  scraps 
of  carrion!  His  best  living,  probably,  is  when  the  nuts 
are  ripe  and  plenty.  Like  other  members  of  the  Crow 
family,  he  can  eat  anything,  and  so  is  called  omniv- 
orous. 

In  the  breeding  season  the  Blue  Jay  is  partial  to  the  ever- 
greens of  the  forest,  especially  to  dense  cedar  swamps,  the  nest 
being  most  commonly  built  in  an  evergreen  tree,  generally 
near  the  trunk,  and  anywhere  from  ten  to  thirty  feet  from  the 
ground.  The  outside  of  the  nest  is  composed  of  small  twigs, 
the  inside  of  fine  rootlets,  closely  interwoven  for  the  kind  of 
materials,  and  having  a  dark  appearance.  The  eggs,  four  or 
five  in  number,  and  about  the  size  of  those  of  a  Robin,  about 
1.15  x  -85,  are  greenish-drab,  finely  speckled  all  over  with 
light-brown  and  dull-lilac. 

Habitat,  Eastern  North  America,  from  the  Gulf  to  56°, 
breeding  throughout  its  range. 

The  Florida  Jay  (Aphelocoma  floridand),  lacking  the  crest 
and  the  elegant  black  bars  on  wings  and  tail,  is  also  blue 
and  about  the  same  size  as  the  above.  With  no  white 
markings  on  wings  and  tail,  a  plain  gray  patch  on  the  back, 
and  a  whitish  forehead,  it  is  much  plainer.  The  blue  band 
about  the  head  and  neck  contrasts  finely,  however,  with  the 
gray  of  the  back  and  breast.  It  is  abundant  in  Florida, 
and  seems  to  be  pretty  much  confined  to  that  locality. 

THE    GOLDEN-WINGED    WOODPECKER. 

Between  sunset  and  dark  of  this  cold  winter-day,  I  behold 
a  most  beautiful  effect  in  the  eastern  sky.  All  along 
the  horizon  is  a  broad  band  of  brilliant  green,  which 
gradually  shades  into  a  still  broader  band  of  rich  purple, 
and  this  latter,  on  approaching  the  zenith,  shades  into  a 
cold  winter-gray.  In  the  midst  of  the  purple  is  the  moon 


78  THE   GOLDEN-WINGED    WOODPECKER. 

just  before  the  full,  and  in  front  of  the  green  is  a  bright 
train  of  silvery  clouds,  tinted  with  the  lingering  hues  of  a 
rosy  sunset. 

I  am  traversing  the  border  of  a  large  tract  of  woods, 
when,  high  above  the  rest  of  the  trees,  in  the  tops  of  the  tower- 
ing elms,  I  discern  the  form  and  flight  of  the  Golden-winged 
Woodpecker  (Colaptes  auratus],  a  bird  but  occasionally  seen 
in  this  locality  in  winter.  Silent  and  shy,  he  makes  off  as 
fast  as  convenient,  keeping  to  the  tops  of  the  tallest  trees. 
I  strain  my  eyes  for  a  last  glimpse  of  him,  but  he  soon 
vanishes  in  the  gloaming. 

What  a  train  of  recollections  and  associations  that  mo- 
mentary flight  recalls!  Next  to  the  Robin,  Bluebird,  or 
Barn  Swallow,  few  members  of  the  feathered  tribes  are  bet- 
ter known  than  " Flicker,"  " High-hole,"  "Yellow-hammer," 
etc.,  for  the  Golden-wing  is  known  by  all  these  names. 
His  several  notes  are  among  the  most  characteristic  sounds 
of  spring,  at  which  time  he  is  thoroughly  noisy.  Com- 
ing from  the  south  in  large  numbers  late  in  March  or 
early  in  April,  ascending  some  tall,  dry  tree-top  at  early 
dawn,  he  announces  himself  either  by  a  sonorous  rapping 
on  the  dry  wood  or  by  a  loud  squealing,  but  jovial  call, 
chee-ah,  chee-ah  which,  once  noted,  is  not  easily  forgotten.  But 
even  this  latter  is  not  half  so  awakening  as  a  certain  pro- 
longed strain,  of  merely  two  syllables  in  regular  repetition, 
something  like  whric'k-ah — whrick-ah — whric'k-ah — whrick- 
ah — whric'k-ah — whric'k-ah.  This  vocal  performance,  meant 
for  a  song  no  doubt,  is  a  mere  rollicking  racket  toned 
down,  indeed,  amidst  the  many  voices  of  spring,  and 
even  rendered  pleasing  by  its  good-natured  hilarity.  How 
significant  is  that  little  love-note,  yu-cah,  half  guttural, 
half  whisper,  which  he  repeats  at  intervals  as  he  flits 
about  the  solitude  of  the  forest  in  spring,  or  plays  bo- 


THE  GOLDEN-WINGED    WOODPECKER.  79 

peep  with  his  lover  around  the  broken-off  top  or  limb  of 
some  dead  tree  ! 

His  flight  is  swift,  vigorous  and  dashing;  is  performed  in 
curves  by  a  few  flaps  of  the  wings,  curving  upward  several 
feet  when  alighting  on  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  but  ending  hori- 
zontally when  alighting  cross-wise  on  limbs,  after  the  man- 
ner of  perching  birds.  In  manner,  as  in  structure,  he  is  not 
precisely  like  the  rest  of  his  family.  At  home  anywhere 
from  the  tallest  tree-top  to  the  ground,  and  always  in  a 
hurry  when  afoot,  he  will  capture  his  insect  food  after  the 
manner  of  Robins  and  Sparrows.  Ants  of  all  sizes  are  spe- 
cially in  favor  with  him.  Why  he  should  have  such  a 
decided  preference  for  this  dry  diet  it  is  difficult  to  conceive 
—  perhaps  on  account  of  the  tickling  sensation  which  large 
numbers  of  these  vigorous  little  creatures  may  afford  when 
taken  alive  into  the  stomach.  In  summer  and  in  autumn, 
when  these  birds  are  sometimes  exceedingly  numerous,  they 
do  not  disdain  certain  kinds  of  small  fruit,  as  wild  grapes 
and  elderberries. 

The  nidification  of  this  species  is  so  much  like  that  of 
other  Woodpeckers  as  to  need  no  special  notice,  except  in 
two  particulars,  viz.,  that  Flicker  frequently  chooses  a 
much  decayed  stub,  and  that  the  eggs  are  especially  trans- 
lucent and  beautiful,  the  yolk  appearing  through  the  shell 
when  fresh.  It  may  perhaps  be  added  that  the  eggs  are 
sometimes  laid  at  irregular  intervals  and  in  extraordinary 
numbers. 

About  the  size  of  a  Pigeon,  some  12.50  length  and 
19.00  extent,  with  bill  slightly  curved,  its  head  and  neck 
are  of  a  purplish-drab,  with  a  scarlet  crescent  on  the  back  of 
the  head,  and,  in  the  male,  a  black  spot  on  each  cheek  at 
the  base  of  the  bill;  upper  parts  greenish-brown,  spotted  with 
black;  rump  white  and  very  conspicuous  in  flight;  under 


80  THE   GOLDEN-WINGED    WOODPECKER. 

parts  reddish-white,  beautifully  spotted  with  black;  a  black 
crescent  on  the  breast;  shafts  of  the  larger  feathers,  under 
side  of  wings  and  tail  a  rich  yellow. 

This  bird  ranges  through  Eastern  North  America,  resid- 
ing from  the  Middle  States  southward,  some  wintering  as 
far  north  as  New  England,  and  breeding  throughout  its 
range. 


CHAPTER   V. 
A   JANUARY    THAW. 

IT  is  the  last  of  January,  1880.     We  have  had  a  complete 
thaw;  the  frost  is  about  out  of  the  ground;  the  sunny  days 
would  do  credit  to  the  last  of  March.     Of  course,  ornitholo- 
gists are  on  the  lookout  such  days  as   these,  so  I  must  to 
the  fields  and  to  the  woods. 

THE    SNOW-BIRD. 

As  I  spring  over  a  pasture  fence  I  startle  a  flock  of  Snow- 
birds (Junco  hyemalis]  from  among  the  withered  golden-rods 
of  last  year.  Tse-tse-tse-tse-tse,  and  they  leave  en  masse  for  the 
brush-heap  yonder.  Both  sight  and  sound  give  me  clue  to 
them  at  once,  for  they  are  common  here  from  October  till 
May.  The  great  body  of  them,  however,  pass  south- 
ward in  autumn  and  northward  in  spring,  it  being  one  of 
the  most  abundant  birds  in  the  migrations. 

Who  does  not  love  the  Snow-bird?  Not  for  its  gay 
apparel,  however,  for  it  is  not  only  plain,  but  even  sombre  in 
dress.  The  Mourning  Sparrow,  it  might  be  called.  A  fine 
male  is  almost  as  dark  as  crape,  the  pure  white  of  his  bil1, 
feet  and  legs,  lower  breast  and  under  parts  and  feathers  on 
either  side  of  his  tail,  being  a  most  delicate  set-off.  The 
female,  when  lightest,  has  the  dark  parts,  a  half  mourning 
gray,  or  dark  drab.  How  strikingly  in  harmony  is  this  little 
bird  with  the  gloom  of  autumn,  the  bleak  days  of  winter, 
or  the  chilly  winds  and  unclad  fields  of  early  spring! 
6 


82  THE   SNOW-BIRD. 

In  size,  structure,  and  habit,  it  is  every  whit  a  Sparrow, 
and  quite  frequently  chooses  the  various  members  of  that 
family  for  its  company.  Most  intimately  is  the  history  of 


THE   SNOW-BIRD. 


this  bird  associated  with  my  childhood.  I  well  remember 
the  sunny  spring  day  in  Nova  Scotia,  when,  in  my  boyish 
delight,  I  found  the  first  two  bird's  nests — the  first,  that  of 
the  Hermit  Thrush;  the  second,  that  of  a  Snow-bird.  Ever 
after  I  found  the  nest  of  the  latter  among  the  most  com- 
mon. Situated  like  that  of  the  Song  Sparrow,  generally  on 
the  ground  and  under  some  protection,  rarely  on  a  stump 
or  in  a  low  bush,  it  is  neatly  built  and  most  softly  lined 
with  hair — often  the  hair  rubbed  off  by  the  cattle  on  the 
stumps.  It  contains  some  four  eggs  about  .80  x  -60,  of  a 
fleshy  white,  sometimes  tinged  with  blue,  delicately  specked 
with  reddish-brown.  This  nest  is  a  very  gem  of  its  kind — 
almost  proof  in  itself  against  the  boyish  propensity  to  dis- 


THE    SNOW-BIRD.  83 

turb  this  kind  of  treasure.  When  startled  from  her  nest 
the  female  is  much  excited,  hobbling  along  on  the  ground  as 
if  lame  or  leg-broken,  her  wide-spread  tail  showing  the  white 
feathers  on  either  side — the  mark  of  relationship  to  the 
Bay-wing  —  to  the  best  advantage.  Hopping  about  the 
nearest  stump  or  fence-rail,  in  the  most  uneasy  manner, 
she  is  joined  immediately  by  her  darker  mate,  in  her  sharp 
chip-chip-chip-chip-chipping,  and  again  takes  possession  of  the 
nest  as  soon  as  the  intruder  leaves.  The  chipping  note  of 
this  bird  is  so  much  like  that  of  the  Chipping  Sparrow 
(Spizella  socialis)  that  Wilson  found  many  persons  in  New 
England  and  some  in  New  York  State  who  believed  that 
the  former  turned  into  the  latter  in  summer,  and  it  was  most 
difficult  to  remove  the  erroneous  notion. 

Resembling  the  Song  Sparrow  in  size  and  general  habit, 
the  Snow-bird  differs  widely  from  it,  not  only  in  color,  but 
in  its  song,  which  is  a  prolonged  tintinnabulous  twitter — a 
more  musical  rendering  of  the  monotonous  strokes  in  the 
plain  melody  of  the  Chipping  Sparrow.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, one  may  surprise  it  in  a  soft,  low  warble,  as  if  indulg- 
ing in  a  musical  soliloquy. 

Though  belonging  to  the  Fringillidce,  or  seed-eating  family, 
it  is,  in  summer  at  least,  particularly  insectivorous,  completely 
crowding  its  mouth  with  soft,  writhing  larvae  for  its  young. 

Audubon  gave  the  Alleghany  Mountain  range  as  the  breed- 
ing habitat  of  this  bird,  and  did  not  see  it  in  Labrador. 
Minot  reports  it  breeding  in  the  White  Mountains  early  in 
June,  and  sometimes  again  in  July.  Augustus  H.  Wood, 
an  ornithologist  residing  at  Painted  Post,  N.  Y.,  reports  it 
breeding  commonly  in  his  neighborhood,  in  damp  situations 
in  ravines  of  hemlock  woods.  I  have  myself  seen  the 
female,  on  the  7th  of  June,  her  mouth  crammed  with  larvae, 
in  Tonawanda  Swamp,  in  Orleans  County,  N.  Y.  Dr.  Coues 


84  THE  MEADOW  LARK. 

informs  me  that  in  suitable  localities  it  breeds  southward, 
even  to  Virginia  and  North  Carolina.  May  not  the  damp 
coolness  of  the  swamp  retain  northern  birds  during  the 
breeding  season  as  well  as  do  the  mountain  ranges? 

The  Snow-bird  winters  from  Southern  New  England 
southward  to  the  Gulf  States.  In  the  Rocky  Mountains  and 
to  the  westward  it  is  replaced  by  closely-allied  species  or 
varieties. 

THE  MEADOW    LARK. 

It  is  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon.  A  strong  south  wind  springs 
up,  and  the  sky,  so  clear  and  sunny  an  hour  ago,  is  covered 
with  dense,  gray  clouds.  I  am  strolling  along  the  telegraph 
road  by  an  old  stone  fence,  when  a  pair  of  Meadow  Larks 
(Sturnella  magnd]  light  on  the  fence  a  few  rods  from  me, 
scarcely  able  to  stand  up  against  the  wind.  They  are  occa- 
sionally seen  here  throughout  the  winter. 

For  the  most  part,  however,  this  is  a  migratory  bird, 
entering  the  Middle  States,  New  England,  and  correspond- 
ing latitudes  about  the  second  week  in  March,  and  going 
south  in  flocks  with  the  later  migrations  to  spend  the 
winter  in  the  Southern  States.  Here,  according  to  Wilson, 
at  this  time  of  year,  "  they  swarm  among  the  rice  planta- 
tions, running  about  the  yards  and  out-houses,  accompanied 
by  the  Killdeers,  with  little  appearance  of  fear,  as  if  quite 
domesticated." 

In  the  wet,  chilly  days  of  March  we  are  forcibly  reminded 
that  spring  is  here  by  the  clear,  sweet,  but  plaintive  warble, 
which  comes  in  soft,  whistling  tones  from  meadow  and 
pasture,  wee-tsee-tsee-ree-ee,  tsce-ree-tsee-ree-ce.  The  strange 
flight,  too,  consisting  of  a  few  tremulous,  vibrating  strokes 
of  the  wings,  succeeded  by  a  short  sailing,  clearly  distin- 
guishes the  Meadow  Lark.  What  strange  impulse  is  it 
which  starts  this  bird  thus  early  northward  to  buffet 


THE  MEADOW  LARK.  85 

benumbing  winds  and  rains?  Had  we  the  wings  of  a  bird, 
would  we  not  then  fly  away  to  sunnier  climes  and  be  at  rest? 

Always  a  bird  of  the  fields,  hence  sometimes  called  "  Old 
Field  Lark,"  on  its  arrival  it  keeps  to  the  ground,  the 
stone  heaps,  and  the  fence.  As  the  period  of  mating  and 
nidification  approaches,  the  male  becomes  quite  noisy. 
Launching  into  the  air  at  a  considerable  height,  instead  of 
his  whistling  warble,  he  gives  vent  to  a  loud,  guttural  twitter. 
Frequently  alighting  in  solitary  trees  about  the  field,  he 
steps  back  and  forth,  and  jerks  and  spreads  his  tail  in  the 
most  uneasy  and  excited  manner.  The  female,  meanwhile, 
seems  shy  and  retiring,  and  frequently  needs  a  good  deal  of 
coaxing  on  the  part  of  the  male;  but  in  due  time  receives 
his  amorous  attentions  with  the  utmost  complacency. 

Though  this  species  breeds  in  Florida  already  in  the  latter 
part  of  April,  nidification  does  not  begin  here  till  the  middle 
or  latter  part  of  May.  In  the  case  of  a  most  typical  nest,  an 
excavation  is  made  in  a  tussock  of  grass;  coarse  dried 
grasses  are  duly  arranged  as  a  frame- work,  and  the  lining 
is  of  fine  grasses,  while  the  dried  grasses  of  the  previous 
year,  still  standing  around  the  excavation,  are  matted  and 
arranged  overhead  with  other  material,  so  as  to  form  a  roof 
open  on  one  side.  In  this  cozy  home  are  placed  four  or  five 
white  eggs,  a  little  larger  than  those  of  a  Robbin,  about 
1.10  x  .80,  speckled,  and  sometimes  blotched,  with  reddish- 
brown  and  lilac.  Sometimes,  however,  the  nest  is  quite 
exposed,  like  that  of  a  Bay-winged  Sparrow.  In  New  York 
State  a  second  brood  may  be  raised.  The  young  are  most 
tenderly  cared  for  by  the  parents  for  weeks  after  being  able 
to  fly;  indeed,  up  to  the  period  of  migration  the  whole 
family  generally  keep  together.  When  caring  for  their 
young  the  parent  birds  have  a  peculiar  note,  which  sounds 
like  guaip,  quaip. 


86  THE  RED-HEADED    WOODPECKER. 

In  the  beautiful  days  of  October  the  male  often  indulges 
in  his  delicious  warble.  At  this  time  the  moult  has  some- 
what changed  his  appearance.  The  brown  tips  and  mark- 
ings of  the  black  feathers  above,  the  more  perfect  fringes 
of  very  light  brown,  which  adorn  all  the  dark  plumage,  as 
well  as  the  various  light  markings  about  the  head,  are  all  of 
a  warmer,  redder  tint,  while  the  bright-yellow  underneath, 
and  especially  the  jet-black  and  somewhat  heart-shaped 
collar  on  the  breast,  are  so  deeply  fringed  with  reddish  as 
to  render  them  somewhat  obscure.  In  plumage,  voice  and 
nidification,  this  bird  resembles  the  Lark,  but  in  structure, 
it  is  more  properly  an  American  Starling.  On  the  prairies 
and  plains  of  the  far  west  there  is  a  lighter-colored  variety, 
said  to  differ  in  song;  while  in  South  America,  there  is  a 
beautiful  Red-breasted  Lark,  similar  to  ours  in  form,  size, 
and  marking. 

The  Meadow  Lark's  long-pointed  bill  and  enormous  legs 
and  feet  may  be  regarded  as  indicative  of  its  ground-life 
and  insect  diet.  Though  seeming  to  be  a  rather  awkwardly- 
shaped  bird  when  examined  in  the  hand,  it  often  takes  an 
attitude  when  alighting,  especially  if  on  a  rock,  which  is 
exceedingly  graceful. 

Breeding  in  Texas  and  Florida  northward  as  far  as  the 
Columbia  and  the  Saskatchawan  rivers,  Mr.  Everett  Smith 
reports  it  as  " common  in  western  Maine;"  and  adds,  "not 
common  east  of  the  Kennebeck  Valley,  and  almost  unknown 
east  of  the  Penobscot  Valley.  Much  less  abundant  in  the 
western  part  of  the  State  now  than  twenty  years  ago."  Mr. 
Chamberlain  notes  it  as  "a  rare  summer  resident"  in  New 
Brunswick. 

THE  RED-HEADED  WOODPECKER. 

I  pass  on  to  the  woods  and  meet  a  striking  object  but 
occasionally  seen  in  our  winter  landscape,  the  Red-headed 


THE  BROWN  CREEPER.  87 

Woodpecker  (Mclanerpes  erythrocephalus).  About  the  size  of 
most  of  its  relatives  in  this  locality,  some  9.50  long, 
with  bright-scarlet  head  and  neck,  upper  parts  black  with 
steel-blue  reflections,  except  the  rump  and  secondaries, 
which,  like  the  under  parts,  are  white,  it  is  so  well  known 
as  to  need  but  little  description.  This  bird  is  a  common 
resident  here  during  the  summer,  and,  in  most  respects,  is 
so  like  other  Woodpeckers  in  habit  as  to  need  but  little 
special  history  in  a  work  like  this.  Its  partiality  to  road- 
sides, its  striking  coloration  of  red,  white  and  black,  making 
it  one  of  the  most  strikingly  beautiful  bird-ornaments  of 
our  landscape,  and  its  excessive  fondness  for  fruit,  especially 
cherries,  are  its  most  marked  peculiarities.  Its  ordinary 
call,  ker-er-er-er-er,  when  rollicking  in  the  tree-tops,  is  very 
characteristic. 

THE    BROWN    CREEPER. 

The  Red-head  passes  out  of  sight,  and  for  a  while  all  is 
silent.  Hark!  there  is  a  soft  conversational  twitter  among 
the  hemlocks.  I  wait  patiently,  and  strain  my  eyes  in  this 
direction  and  that,  but  for  some  minutes  can  see  nothing. 
Presently  a  troop  of  Chickadees  appear;  then  several  White- 
bellied  Nuthatches,  uttering  a  soft  kip,  kip,  kip,  and  an 
occasional  sonorous  quank,  quank,  pass  by  in  their  usual 
spirited  manner;  and,  while  they  are  yet  passing,  two  Brown 
Creepers  (Certhia  familiaris)  come  in  sight.  Lighting  at  the 
base  of  the  trees,  they  ascend  them  by  dainty  little  jerks  in 
a  spiral  manner,  gleaning  food  as  they  go,  uttering  an 
occasional  soft  chip,  or  a  quick  shree-shree-shree;  often  flit- 
ting away  from  a  tree  before  ascending  very  high,  in  order 
to  begin  the  ascent  at  the  base  of  another,  which,  this  time, 
perhaps,  will  be  continued  to  the  top.  How  well  the  color 
of  this  little  bird,  a  variety  of  rich  browns  curiously  marked 
—  the  white  underneath  being  out  of  sight  —  corresponds 


88  THE  BROWN  CREEPER. 

with  the  colors  of  this  open  winter.  Its  long,  slender  bill, 
much  curved,  is  well  adapted  to  picking  insects  and  their 
larvae  from  the  crevices  of  the  bark,  while  the  sharp  claws 
and  rigid-pointed  tail-feathers  are  a  sufficient  support  to  the 
ascending  movements.  It  is  too  graceful  and  dignified  ever 
to  hang  head-downward  like  Nuthatches  and  Titmice.  It 
is  also  rather  shy,  frequently  keeping  the  opposite  side  of  the 
tree  on  seeing  the  observer,  and  then  it  is  necessary  to  get 
behind  a  tree  also,  and,  looking  for  it  some  distance  higher 
than  the  point  where  it  disappeared,  one  may  get  a  glimpse 
of  it  again.  Its  flight  is  very  nervous  and  quick.  In  spring 
it  will  be  much  more  numerous,  as  the  greater  number  of 
this  species  passes  south  in  autumn  and  north  in  spring, 
when  it  has  a  soft  and  melodious  song. 

It  is  now  well  made  out  that  the  ordinary  nesting-place  of 
this  species  is  behind  a  loose  strip  of  bark  on  a  dead  tree  or 
a  stub,  from  five  to  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground.  Composed 
externally  of  dried  twigs  arranged  lengthwise  between  the 
bare  mast-like  trunk  and  the  loosened  bark,  and  so  assum- 
ing a  crescent  form  elevated  at  both  ends  and  depressed 
in  the  middle,  the  interior  and  bulk  of  the  nest  are  of  shreds 
of  the  inner  bark  of  various  trees,  with,  perhaps,  some 
usnea  and  spider's  cocoons,  and  lined  with  still  finer  shreds 
of  bark  or  with  feathers.  If  the  bark  is  so  close  to  the 
tree  as  barely  to  admit  the  nest,  the  external  structure  of 
twigs  is  dispensed  with.  The  tree  or  stub  chosen  is  gen- 
erally of  the  pine  or  fir,  and  is  nearly  denuded  of  bark. 
The  eggs,  generally  five  or  six,  averaging  .59  X  .48,  are 
delicate  white,  rosy  when  fresh,  finely  marked  with  brown 
and  purplish-brown.  They  resemble  those  of  the  Titmice 
and  Nuthatches. 

This  diminutive  species,  some  5.50  long,  is  at  home  alike 
in  Europe  and  throughout  North  America. 


THE-  GREAT  HORNED   OWL.  89 

THE    GREAT    HORNED    OWL. 

Our  four  seasons,  spring,  summer,  autumn  and  winter,  are 
not  divided  by  exact  lines.  There  is  no  perceptible  differ- 
ence between  the  last  of  May  and  the  first  of  June,  nor  between 
the  last  of  August  and  the  first  of  September;  and  the  melt- 
ing power  of  spring  is  in  the  air,  even  in  our  climate,  long 
before  the  last  of  February.  The  birds  do  not  begin  to 
make  their  appearance  from  the  south,  indeed,  until  some 
time  in  March;  yet  there  is  one  common  resident,  which 
breeds  already  in  February,  becoming  conscious,  perhaps, 
of  the  genial  influence  of  the  first  melting  rays  of  the  sun. 
About  the  middle  of  the  last-named  month  a  youth  brought 
me  a  large,  living  female  of  the  Great  Horned  Owl  (Bubo 
virgintanus),  which  had  been  winged  while  on  the  nest;  and 
he  had  also  secured  the  eggs.  The  nest  was  a  huge  pile  of 
sticks,  placed  very  high  in  a  beech  tree;  the  eggs,  two  in 
number,  some  2.25  x  2.00,  were  roundish,  smooth,  and  of  a 
dull  but  clear  white.  The  nest  is  said  to  be  found  some- 
times in  a  hollow  tree,  or. even  in  the  cleft  of  a  rock,  but 
generally  in  a  tall  pine  or  hemlock,  and  to  be  generally 
"  lined  with  dry  leaves  and  a  few  feathers,"  the  eggs  being 
sometimes  as  many  as  six.  Twenty  inches  or  two  feet  in 
length,  tawny  or  whitish,  variously  mottled  with  brown 
and  black;  with  a  large,  white  patch  on  the  throat,  large 
ear- tufts  and  bright-yellow  irides;  his  is  a  large,  homely 
form,  patched  and  spotted  with  the  plainest  of  colors,  and 
having  a  face  like  that  of  a  lynx  rather  than  of  a  bird.  Nor  are 
his  habits  any  more  agreeable  than  his  personal  appearance. 
Most  formidable  as  to  bill  and  claws,  he  is  a  sly,  destructive 
bird  of  prey,  even  to  the  devastation  of  the  poultry-yard. 
Wilson  tells  the  following  amusing  anecdote  about  him: 
"A  very  large  one,  wing  broken,  *  *  *  was  kept 
about  the  house  for  several  days,  and  at  length  disappeared, 


90  THE   GREA  T  HORNED   0  WL. 

no  one  knew  how.  Almost  every  day  after  this  hens  and 
chickens  also  disappeared,  one  by  one,  in  an  unaccountable 
manner,  till,  in  eight  or  ten  days,  very  few  were  left  remain- 
ing. The  fox,  the  minx,  and  weasel  were  alternately  the 
reputed  authors  of  this  mischief,  until  one  morning,  the 
old  lady  herself,  rising  before  day  to  bake,  in  passing 
towards  the  oven,  surprised  her  late  prisoner,  the  Owl, 
regaling  himself  on  the  body  of  a  newly-killed  hen!  The 
thief  instantly  made  for  his  hole  under  the  house,  from 
whence  the  enraged  matron  soon  dislodged  him  with  the 
brush-handle,  and  without  mercy  dispatched  him.  In  this 
snug  retreat  were  found  the  greater  part  of  the  feathers, 
and  many  large  fragments  of  her  whole  family  of  chickens." 

In  confinement  the  Great  Horned  Owl  is  simply  horrible. 
He  will  squint  and  scowl  at  one  in  the  most  ominous  man- 
ner; and  again  turning  his  eyes  into  very  balls  of  fire,  will 
snap  at  one  like  a  cross  dog,  hiss  like  an  angry  cat,  and 
strike  his  claws  at  one  with  the  most  murderous  force.  Did 
I  not  once  see  a  large  dog  rush  around  the  house  in  perfect 
desperation,  in  the  attempt  to  disengage  the  claws  of  this 
bird  from  both  sides  of  his  head? 

If  reared  from  the  nest,  however,  he  may  become  quite 
docile  and  friendly.  Mr.  Bruce,  of  Brockport,  has  one  such, 
which,  on  being  greeted  with  a  bow  by  his  master,  will  bow 
and  blink  most  obsequiously  in  return,  and  will  even  reach 
out  his  foot  to  shake  hands.  One  now  in  the  large  museum 
at  Drummondville,  Ontario,  opposite  Niagara  Falls,  will 
boo-hoo  and  bawl,  after  the  most  hideous  manner  of  his  wonted 
midnight  carnivals  in  the  forest,  in  answer  to  the  conver- 
sation and  questions  of  his  keeper. 

Concerning  the  courtship  of  this  bird,  Audubon  says: 
"  The  curious  evolutions  of  the  male  in  the  air,  or  his 
motions  when  he  has  alighted  near  his  beloved,  it  is  impos- 


THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK.  91 

sible  to  describe.  His  bowings  and  the  snappings  of  his  bill 
are  extremely  ludicrous;  and  no  sooner  is  the  female  assured 
that  the  attentions  paid  her  by  the  beau  are  the  result  of  a 
sincere  affection  than  she  joins  in  the  motions  of  her  future 
mate." 

How  Of  How  Of  Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!  These,  with  many 
other  screaming  and  choking  sounds  to  one  who  has  heard 
them,  and  has  both  a  good  memory  and  a  good  imagination, 
may  be  especially  significant.  But  of  all  the  sounds  with 
which  this  bird  makes  night  hideous,  no  one  has  heard  any 
to  the  greatest  advantage,  unless,  passing  through  some  dis- 
mal forest  in  the  full  blackness  of  night,  he  has  heard  the 
alarm  sounded  suddenly  in  the  tree-tops  above  him. 

No  one  need  fail  of  the  acquaintance  of  the  Great  Horned 
Owl,  for  he  is  abundant,  and  the  whole  continent  is  his 
habitat. 

THE    RED-TAILED  HAWK. 

It  is  the  last  of  February.  The  ground  is  frozen  hard;  a 
light  fall  of  snow  during  the  previous  night  has  but  covered 
the  earth,  and  the  sun  has  started  on  his  career  through  the 
heavens  without  a  cloud  to  obscure  his  pathway.  Gun  in 
hand,  I  have  entered  the  nearest  woods,  and  am  crossing  the 
course  of  a  run,  smoothly  frozen  over,  when  I  break  through 
the  shell-ice,  and  from  the  dry  region  beneath  the  Gray 
Rabbit  (Lepus  sylvaticus)  springs  out  through  the  opening  at 
my  feet,  and  squats  on  a  log  only  a  few  feet  from  me.  I 
attempt  to  fire,  but  the  gun  will  not  go  off.  I  spoil  several 
caps,  and  go  home  to  see  what  the  matter  is,  well  knowing 
that  I  can  track  my  game  in  the  new  snow  for  some  time  to 
come.  I  am  chagrined  at  the  loss  of  the  Rabbit,  but  am 
diverted  by  the  flight  of  a  Red-tailed  Hawk  (Buteo  borealis], 
which,  high  in  air,  seems  to  be  enjoying  this  delightful 
morning. 


92  THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK. 

How  much  there  is  in  the  flight  of  a  bird!  Full  well  has 
the  Duke  of  Argyll  seized  upon  it  as  an  unmistakable  evi- 
dence of  design  in  nature.  From  the  fish  darting  through 
the  pathless  waters,  or  the  serpent  gliding  without  legs  or 
feet  along  the  ground,  or  the  frog  leaping  with  surprising 
elasticity,  or  the  stately  stepping  of  the  steed,  up  through 
all  the  various  styles  and  methods  of  animal  locomotion,  to 
the  eagle  which  soars  above  the  clouds,  the  flight  of  birds 
is  by  far  the  most  interesting  and  wonderful.  How  that 
Hawk  floats  like  something  ethereal  in  the  atmosphere!  His 
lungs  affording  communication  with  a  system  of  large  cavi- 
ties throughout  the  body,  the  bones  and  muscles,  even,  and 
the  spaces  between  the  body  and  the  skin  being  pervaded 
by  the  ramifications  of  air-cells,  every  respiration  literally 
fills  him;  and  this  inhaled  air  being  rarefied  by  the  heat  of 
his  body,  not  to  speak  of  the  innumerable  interspaces  of 
the  light  plumage,  all  pervaded  by  the  external  air,  he  is 
almost  as  light  as  the  clouds  themselves.  If  the  reader  has 
ever  climbed  a  mountain,  and  known  the  intoxication  of 
delightful  sensations  produced  by  a  rarefied  atmosphere,  he 
may  form  some  conception  of  what  must  be  the  pleasurable 
sensations  of  this  soaring  creature. 

As  to  the  act  of  flight  itself,  the  upper  side  of  the  wing 
being  convex,  and  the  wing  somewhat  drawn  together,  the 
upward  stroke  in  flight  meets  but  little  resistance,  while  the 
under  side,  which  is  concave,  incloses  the  atmosphere  in  the 
downward  stroke  of  the  fully-extended  wing,  and  so  secures 
the  full  force  of  its  elasticity.  This,  however,  simply 
enables  the  bird  to  rise.  What  carries  it  forward  ?  The  air, 
escaping  behind  the  long,  elastic  pinions,  drives  it  on,  some- 
what as  the  wind,  escaping  behind  the  sail,  propels  the  boat. 
The  sailing  of  the  bird,  with  steady,  motionless  wings,  is 
accomplished  by  a  nice  adjustment  of  the  wing  to  the 


THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK.  93 

breeze,  precisely  like  the  trimming  of  a  sail.  But  to  hover 
is  the  most  wonderful  feat  of  the  bird  —  to  make  rapid 
strokes  with  the  wings,  and  yet  remain  at  the  same  point  in 
the  air.  Who  has  not  seen  the  King-fisher,  or  the  Spar- 
row Hawk  hover  ?  or  the  Humming-bird,  as  it  poises  itself 
in  front  of  the  flower,  to  capture  the  insects  housed  in  its 
beautiful  chambers,  or  to  sip  its  nectar?  This  is  done  by  an 
oblique  stroke  of  the  wings.  The  bird  is  never  in  a  horizontal 
position  in  hovering,  but  always  poised  at  an  angle,  thus 
allowing  the  air  to  escape  from  the  wing  in  such  a  manner 
as  simply  to  keep  it  up.  Here  is  design,  indeed,  but  also 
something  still  higher;  the  thought  of  flight  must  have 
preceded  the  nice  adjusting  of  the  structure  and  functions 
of  the  wing  to  the  aerial  laws.  But  there  is  no  thought 
without  a  thinker;  hence  the  flight  of  the  Hawk  carries  my 
mind  up  to  the  Great  Creator.  And  is  this  not  a  great 
lesson  taught  in  a  most  pleasing  manner?  Who  could  not 
derive  pleasure  in  beholding  such  majestic  soaring,  such 
grand  spiral  curves  of  immense  sweep,  such  sublime  eleva- 
tion, till  the  bird  becomes  a  mere  speck  against  the  ether?  I 
cannot  think  of  any  bird  short  of  the  Eagle  whose  flight  can 
equal  this  in  elegance  and  grandeur.  It  is  the  very  poetry 
of  motion.  What  can  the  bird  be  thinking  of  at  such  a 
time  ?  Is  it  not  enjoying  that  animated  existence,  the  very 
consciousness  of  which,  in  its  normal  state,  is  bliss?  Great 
lesson  to  unsatisfied  human  nature. 

Here  let  us  quote  a  few  lines  from  John  Burroughs:  "  The 
calmness  and  dignity  of  this  Hawk,  when  attacked  by  the 
Crows  or  the  King-bird,  are  well  worthy  of  him.  He  seldom 
deigns  to  notice  his  noisy  and  furious  antagonists,  but 
deliberately  wheels  about  in  that  aerial  spiral,  and  mounts 
and  mounts  till  his  pursuers  grow  dizzy  and  return  to  the 
earth  again.  It  is  quite  original,  this  mode  of  getting  rid  of 


94  THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK. 

an  unworthy  opponent,  rising  to  heights  where  the  braggart 
is  dazed  and  bewildered  and  loses  his  reckoning!  I  am  not 
sure  but  it  is  worthy  of  imitation." 

The  tube  of  my  shot-gun  cleared,  I  return  early  in  the 
afternoon  in  search  of  the  Gray  Rabbit.  I  have  no  difficulty 
in  tracing  his  track  in  the  fresh  snow,  but  what  a  zigzag 
course  he  has  taken!  I  seem  -to  have  traveled  miles,  and 
yet  am  only  a  few  rods  from  the  place  of  starting.  Alas! 
poor  Rabbit!  I  have  reached  the  end  of  his  career,  and  find 
simply  a  great  spot  of  blood  on  the  snow,  with  bunches  of 
hair  and  a  few  bones.  While  I  am  trying  to  conjecture  the 
author  of  this  tragedy,  I  look  up  to  the  top  of  a  tall  tree 
quite  near  and  spy  a  Red-tailed  Hawk  motionless  as  a 
statue.  He  is  probably  the  one  I  saw  soaring  so  majesti- 
cally a  few  hours  ago,  and  is  now  resting  in  favor  of  diges- 
tion, after  gorging  himself  with  the  missing  Rabbit,  Some- 
what annoyed  at  the  extent  of  the  meal,  but  more  over  the 
loss  of  my  game,  I  take  aim  and  bring  him  to  the  ground. 
He  must  lose  his  life  in  penalty  of  gluttony.  Ordinarily, 
he  would  not  have  allowed  the  hunter  to  come  near  enough 
to  reach  him  with  a  shot-gun.  He  is  only  wounded,  how- 
ever, and  rearing  himself  on  claws  and  tail,  assumes  a  most 
formidable  attitude  of  defense.  With  superciliary  ridges 
projecting  far  over  his  eyes,  which  gleam  with  vengeance, 
with  mouth  wide  open  and  crest  erect,  what  a  savage  physi- 
ognomy he  presents!  And  in  what  a  threatening  manner 
he  raises  his  powerful  wings!  ' Hands  off!"  is  the  language 
of  his  whole  expression,  as  bill,  wings  and  claws  are  in  equal 
readiness  for  blows  and  wounds.  I  extend  to  him  the 
muzzle  of  the  gun,  which  he  grasps  so  firmly  with  both 
talons  that  I  carry  him  home  before  he  relinquishes  his 
hold.  Nailing  slats  across  a  large  box,  I  attempt  to  keep 
my  bird  in  confinement,  placing  food  before  him  regularly. 


THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK.  95 

and  showing  him  every  possible  attention;  but,  like  a  genuine 
savage,  he  will  neither  eat  nor  show  any  sign  of  grief  or 
submission.  And  yet  I  must  admire  him,  for  he  finally  di< 
without  any  yielding  of  spirit,  without  any  disposition 
whatever  to  become  a  slave. 

The  Hawks,  as  a  group  belonging  to  the  birds  of  prey, 
are  placed  between  the  Owls  and  the  Vultures.  The  Hawks 
again,  according  to  their  structure,  are  naturally  arranged  into 
Harriers,  Falcons,  True-hawks,  Buzzards  and  Fish-hawks. 
The  Red-tailed  Hawk,  often  called  the  Hen  Hawk,  is  a 
Buzzard,  and,  like  the  rest  of  the  Buzzards,  is  so  nearly 
related  to  the  Eagle  as  to  afford  very  little  structural  dif- 
ference. In  dignity  of  habit  this  Hawk,  as  well  as  some 
others,  stands  above  the  Eagle.  The  latter  is  often  a  notori- 
ous thief,  wresting  the  hard-earned  prey  from  other  birds, 
or  even  condescending  to  the  most  putrid  carrion,  while  the 
Hawks  in  general  capture  their  own  prey.  The  fare  of  the 
Red-tailed  Hawk  is  quite  in  keeping  with  his  dignified 
bearing,  consisting  generally  of  hares,  squirrels,  birds,  barn- 
yard fowl,  frogs,  or  a  fancy  snake.  In  search  of  the  latter, 
or  perhaps  even  of  mice,  you  may  sometimes  see  him  scour- 
ing the  meadows  somewhat  in  the  manner  of  the  Marsh 
Hawk.  Generally,  however,  with  a  keen-sightedness  which 
is  perfectly  marvelous,  he  descries  his  prey  from  the 
enormous  height  of  his  spiral  sailing,  sometimes  dropping 
almost  meteor-like,  and  then  suddenly  checking  himself,  he 
seizes  his  quarry  unawares;  or  he  alights  on  it  from  some 
perch  near  by,  whence  he  has  been  reconnoitering  an  im- 
mense reach  of  territory.  On  the  whole,  if  it  were  not  for 
his  depredations  on  the  poultry-yard,  we  should  think  more 
of  him  than  of  any  other  bird  of  prey.  The  natural  adap- 
tation of  this  class  of  birds  to  a  life  of  cruelty  makes  them 
repulsive  to  the  tenderer  feelings,  unless,  indeed,  we  conceive 


96  THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK. 

that  the  perfection  of  nature's  variety  needs  a  cruel  phase, 
just  as  the  various  shades  of  light  and  of  color  need  dark- 
ness for  their  perfection. 

The  Red- tailed  Hawk  is  nearly  two  feet  in  length;  the 
color  above  is  a  rich  dark-brown,  the  wings  and  upper  tail- 
coverts  marked  and  barred  with  dusky  and  white;  the  tail  is 
generally  bright  chestnut-red,  sometimes  margined  with 
white,  always  sub-margined  with  black  reddish-gray  be- 
neath; the  under  parts  generally  white,  with  a  zone  of 
brown  markings  across  the  breast.  The  cere,  legs  and  feet 
are  bright-yellow.  This  may  be  regarded  as  the  ordinary 
marking  of  the  mature  bird.  It  varies  greatly,  however, 
with  age.  The  male  is  several  inches  shorter  than  the 
female. 

In  Western  New  York,  the  Red-tailed  Hawk  lays  its  eggs 
in  March  or  April.  The  eggs,  three  in  number,  of  a  nest 
taken  the  27th  of  March,  are  now  before  me.  One  of  my 
parishioners  discovered  it  in  a  large  beech  tree,  only  a  few 
rods  from  his  sugar-camp,  where  he  was  busy  every  day 
gathering  and  boiling  sap,  the  birds  not  seeming  in  the  least 
disturbed  by  the  business.  The  nest,  equal  in  bulk  to  a 
bushel-basket,  composed  of  sticks  rudely  piled,  lined  with 
fine  strips  of  the  inner  bark  of  ash  rails  in  a  slashing  near 
by,  was  in  the  fork  of  a  large  limb,  about  fifteen  feet  from 
the  trunk,  and  about  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet  from  the 
ground.  A  truly  perilous  undertaking  was  this  ascent,  and 
yet  a  young  friend  kindly  volunteered  his  services,  saying, 
with  a  very  suggestive  look:  "  If  I  fall  and  break  my  bones, 
you  must  pay  the  doctor's  bill;  if  I  kill  myself,  you  must 
pay  my  funeral  expenses."  The  eggs,  about  2.25  long  by 
rather  less  than  1.90  broad,  are  roundish,  one  end  a  little 
smaller  than  the  other,  greenish-white,  two  dimly  scratched 
and  spotted  with  a  purplish-brown,  while  all  are  more  or 


THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK.  97 

less  sparingly  marked  with  a  muddy-brown,  the  latter  color- 
ing, in  the  case  of  the  otherwise  clear  egg,  seeming  very 
like  slight  smirchings  of  dirt.  On  the  whole,  they  are  rather 
pretty.  Another  nest,  taken  a  few  days  later,  contained  two 
eggs  not  quite  so  round,  and  having  the  dark-brown  markings 
heavier  and  more  numerous.  The  nest  was  similarly  placed. 
In  the  latter  part  of  March,  of  1874,  a  nest  was  found  in  the 
top  of  a  tall  elm  tree  in  the  woods  near  Knowlesville.  Two 
young  men  undertook  to  capture  the  Hawk.  The  one  fired 
at  the  nest,  and,  holding  his  piece  rather  carelessly,  found  it 
sticking  in  the  mud  behind  him;  the  other  succeeded  in 
taking  the  female  bird  on  the  wing  as  she  left  her  eyrie. 
The  male  now  sat  on  the  eggs  for  a  time,  but  was  too 
wary  to  allow  an  approach  within  gun-shot,  and  left  after  a 
few  days.  In  all  of  the  above  cases  the  birds  seem  to  have 
raised  their  young  in  the  same  locality  for  a  series  of  years. 

The  note  of  the  Red-tailed  Hawk,  most  commonly  heard, 
as  he  sails  high  in  the  air,  in  the  bright  days  of  summer,  and 
expressed,  perhaps,  by  the  syllables  Kshee-o,  Kshee-o,  well 
drawn  out,  is  rather  harsh  and  squealing,  but  when  uttered 
while  the  female  cuts  her  grand  circles  above  the  nest,  as  it 
is  being  disturbed,  it  is  even  pathetic. 

This  bird  may  be  found  in  Western  New  York  throughout 
the  yeaV;  and  from  the  last  of  February  or  the  first  of 
March  till  late  in  autumn,  it  is  our  most  common  Hawk. 
Its  habitat  is  all  North  America,  and  even  Mexico  and 
some  of  the  West  India  Islands. 

Similar  in  form  to  the  above,  but  a  little  larger,  and  dis- 
tinguishable by  the  "tarsus  feathered  in  front  for  more 
than  half  its  length,"  and  by  the  four  outer  quills  "  incised 
on  the  inner  webs,"  is  that  rare  southern  species  —  Harlan's 
Hawk  (Bueto  harlani).  It  is,  however,  a  little  larger,  and 
appears  darker.  "  General  colors  throughout,  dark,  sooty - 
7 


98  THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK. 

brown,  with  the  wings,  excepting  tips  of  primaries,  finely 
but  irregularly  barred  with  ashy-brown  and  whitish.  The 
tail  is  mottled  with  ashy-brown,  which  becomes  decidedly 
rufous  next  to  the  shaft  of  the  subterminal  portion  of  the 
feathers.  Below,  the  feathers  of  the  flanks  and  under  the 
tail  coverts  are  obscurely  banded  with  ashy-brown.  The 
basal  two-thirds  of  the  feathers  on  head,  neck,  all  around, 
and  breast  to  middle  of  body,  are  pure  white."  (Maynard). 

This  fine  bird  was  first  found  in  Louisiana  by  Audubon. 
As  none  were  found  for  many  years  afterward,  its  validity 
as  a  species  was  doubted.  More  recently  some  half-dozen 
specimens  have  been  found,  some  as  far  north  as  Pennsyl- 
vania, but  more  of  them  in  Texas.  It  is  now  regarded  as 
a  well-defined  species. 

The  Red-shouldered  Hawk  (Buteo  lineatus] — male,  some 
19.00  long;  female,  22.00  —  is  nearly  as  long  as  the  former 
species  to  which  it  is  very  closely  related,  but  it  is  not  nearly 
as  heavy.  Reddish-brown  above  the  feathers,  dark-centered, 
lighter  shade  of  the  same  below,  with  narrow  streaks  of 
darker  and  bars  of  white,  the  blackish  tail  noticeably  banded 
with  white,  shoulder  of  the  wing  orange-brown.  Young, 
plain  brown  above,  white  below,  dark-streaked.  This  species 
is  every  way  similar  in  habit  to  the  Red-tail.  Very  abund- 
ant along  the  Atlantic  Coast  and  in  the  Atlantic  States 
generally,  it  becomes  rare  already  in  the  Maritime  prov- 
inces, and  is  not  common  to  the  westward.  It  is  either  rare 
or  overlooked  in  Western  New  York. 

Swainson's  Hawk  (Buteo  swainsoni),  a  northwestern  species, 
breeding  rarely  in  Illinois,  and  straggling  to  Montreal  and 
Massachusetts,  must  be  noticed  here.  The  male,  some  19.50 
long,  and  48.00  in  extent,  is  dark-brown  above,  lighter  on 
head,  darker  on  wings,  and  ashy  on  tail,  the  feathers, 
especially  on  neck,  more  or  less  edged  with  reddish.  Wings 


THE  RED-TAILED  HAWK.  99 

and  tail  crossed  with  wary  bars  of  dusky,  the  latter  tipped 
with  whitish.  Concealed  patch  on  back  of  head,  white; 
sides  white,  barred  with  reddish  and  dark-brown;  white 
beneath,  tinged  below  the  throat  with  reddish-yellow,  the 
breast  barred  with  reddish-brown;  under  wing  coverts 
tipped  with  black.  There  is  also  a  darker  form.  The 
female,  some  20.10  long  and  48.75  in  extent,  is  similarly 
marked,  but  much  darker.  This  species  sometimes  builds 
its  nest  in  shrubbery. 

The  Broad-winged  Hawk  (Buteo pennsylvanicus )  is  a  com- 
mon eastern  species.  The  male,  some  15.25  long  and  35.00 
in  extent,  is  brown  above,  the  feathers  edged  with  reddish; 
head  and  neck  streaked  with  white;  tail  with  a  broad,  red- 
dish-gray band  a  little  more  than  an  inch  from  the  tip,  a 
narrow  band  of  the  same  nearer  the  base,  and  tipped  with 
same;  under  parts  white,  or  buffy-white,  broadly  cross- 
barred  and  variously  marked  with  light-brown.  Female,  an 
inch  or  so  longer,  and  similarly  marked.  This  fine  little 
Hawk  is  generally  distributed  throughout  the  Eastern 
States  in  summer,  and  winters  to  the  south.  Its  food  is 
mostly  the  smaller  birds  and  quadrupeds,  which  it  captures 
for  the  most  part  among  the  bushes  or  on  the  ground.  Like 
the  rest  of  the  Buteos,  it  is  quite  given  to  sailing  in  flight, 
but  not  in  such  grand,  sweeping  curves  as  those  of  its  larger 
congeners.  It  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  most  unwary  of  all 
our  Hawks,  and,  with  a  little  caution,  may  be  approached 
quite  closely.  It  nests  in  trees,  constructing  quite  a  bulky 
nest  of  sticks  and  twigs  externally,  and  lined  with  leaves 
and  shreds  of  bark.  Generally  an  evergreen  tree  is  pre- 
ferred. The  eggs,  three  or  four,  some  2.10  x  1.65  elliptical 
or  roundish,  are  of  a  dirty  white  color,  blurred  or  blotched 
with  reddish-brown.  Sometimes  they  are  almost  white. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

VOICES  OF  SPRING. 

IN  the  Middle  States  the  entire  month  of  March  is  a  tem- 
pestuous conflict  between  the  icy  cold  of  winter  and 
the  power  of  a  vernal  sun.  Yet  even  the  first  week  of  this 
month  may  have  its  days  of  genial  warmth,  when  the  earth, 
reeking  from  the  relenting  frost,  woos  the  coming  spring. 
Such  is  this  third  day  of  March,  when  lo!  a  voice  salutes  me, 
which  is  the  very  soul  of  tenderness.  .1  can  scarcely  tell 
whether  sadness  or  joy  the  more  prevails  in  its  soft  warb- 
lings,  so  strictly  is  it  in  harmony  with  these  unsettled  days. 
It  is  the  voice  of  the  Bluebird  (Sialia  sialis).  Appearing 
here  the  last  week  in  February  or  the  first  week  in  March, 
the  "color"  of  the  sky  "on  his  back"  and  the  "hue"  of  the 
earth  "on  his  breast,"  he  may  well  inspire  hope  and  courage 
in  every  heart.  Who  does  not  welcome  the  Bluebird  ? 
Like  the  sweet-scented  trailing  arbutus,  which  they  called 
the  May-flower,  the  arrival  of  the  Bluebird  cheered  the 
fainting  spirits  of  the  first  settlers  of  Massachusetts  after  a 
long  and  dreadful  winter;  and,  associating  him  in  some  way 
with  the  Robin-redbreast  of  Europe,  they  called  him  the 
Blue  Robin.  Some  6.50-7.00  long,  the  upper  parts  of  the 
male  are  a  beautiful,  bright,  ultra-marine  blue ;  throat, 
breast  and  sides  chestnut-red  ;  belly  white.  The  female  is 
similar,  but  more  or  less  tinged  with  dull  gray  above.  The 
young  resemble  the  old,  but,  with  a  light  fringed  plumage 
above,  are  truly  beautiful. 


.  THE  BLUEBIRD.  101 

All  through  March,  but  especially  through  April,  the 
bright  colors  and  soft,  clear  warble  of  the  Bluebird  are 
inseparably  associated  with  our  landscape.  The  females, 
arriving  some  time  after  the  males,  about  the  middle  of 
April,  there  is  a  modest  courtship,  resulting  in  pairing  and 
immediate  preparation  for  nesting.  As  the  female  first 
appears  and  alights  on  the  fence,  the  males  may  appear  one 
on  each  side  of  her,  each  vying  with  the  other  in  attractive 
demonstrations.  They  raise  their  wings  with  a  graceful, 
trembling  motion,  warble  most  significantly,  and  sidle 
towards  her.  Perchance  she  disdains  them  both,  and  as  she 
flies  away  they  both  pursue  her.  A  spirited  contest  between 
the  males  may  now  occur,  or  the  female  accepting  the  over- 
tures of  the  one,  the  other  will  quietly  retire.  The  mating 
over,  the  warbling  grows  more  cheerful.  Boxes,  deserted 
Woodpeckers'  holes,  and  natural  cavities  in  posts,  stubs, 
and  especially  about  the  trees  of  the  orchard,  or  even  an 
opening  in  the  cornice  of  the  house,  are  all  explored,  the 
female  constantly  leading,  and  the  male  attending  with  a 
great  deal  of  gallant  ceremony  and  music.  Cheerily,  cheerily, 
is  his  constant  theme,  with  more  or  less  variation,  as  the 
quiet  and  industrious  housewife  lugs  in  the  various  soft 
materials  —  mostly  dried  grasses  —  for  bedding  the  nest. 
The  eggs,  from  four  to  six,  and  about  the  size  of  those  of  a 
Bay-winged  Sparrow,  some  .85  x  -62,  are  of  a  clear  pale- 
blue.  As  soon  as  the  young  are  able  to  fly,  the  male  takes 
them  in  charge,  and  the  female  starts  a  second  brood,  and 
sometimes  in  like  manner  a  third.  During  all  this  time 
their  destruction  of  insects,  which  constitute  their  chief 
diet,  is  immense. 

This  season  I  had  a  good  opportunity  of  watching  the 
incubation  of  a  nest  made  in  the  mortise  of  an  old  fancy 
post,  the  remains  of  a  former  fence  in  a  front  yard,  the  mor- 


102  THE  ROBIN. 

tise  having  been  enlarged  by  decay.  The  nest  was  neatly 
made  of  dried  grasses,  and  the  five  eggs  were  real  gems. 
Incubation  lasted  about  ten  days.  Another  nest  was  made 
in  the  tool-box  of  a  reaper,  which  had  been  left  in  the 
field  from  Saturday  till  Thursday,  the  lid  of  the  box  having 
been  kept  open  by  the  handle  of  a  wrench.  The  nest  had 
been  built  in  this  short  time,  and  one  egg  had  been  laid. 

After  incubation  is  begun  the  male  becomes  almost  silent, 
and  remains  so  during  the  summer.  Some  time  in  Novem- 
ber the  family  groups  leave  for  the  south,  having  then  a 
single  plaintive  note,  wholly  unlike  the  warble  of  spring, 
and  quite  as  well  in  keeping  with  the  gloom  of  autumn. 
The  plumage  now,  too,  is  more  or  less  mixed  with  a  cold  gray, 
thus  making  the  harmony  with  the  bleakness  of  nature  the 
more  perfect. 

The  Bluebird  spends  the  winter  in  the  Southern  States, 
sometimes  going  even  further  south;  and  in  its  northern 
migrations  goes  scarcely  beyond  New  England,  in  the 
northern  part  of  which  it  already  becomes  uncommon. 

From  the  eastern  foot-hills  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  west- 
ward to  the  Pacific  are  two  closely-allied  species  called  the 
Western  Bluebird  and  the  Rocky  Mountain  Bluebird,  the 
latter  being  more  common  in  the  mountainous  region  indi- 
cated by  its  name.  The  former  has  the  throat-blue,  and  a 
chestnut  spot  on  the  back;  the  latter,  which  is  of  a  greenish 
shade,  has  the  under  parts  similar  to  the  upper,  only  lighter, 
fading  into  white  on  the  belly. 

THE   ROBIN. 

On  this  same  3d  of  March,  so  full  of  brightness  and 
warmth,  I  meet  the  first  Robins  of  the  year.  I  hear  their 
abrupt,  vigorous,  clear  note  before  I  see  them.  This  note, 
though  resembling  that  of  various  Thrushes,  has  a  ring  all 


THE  ROBIN.  103 

its  own,  and  is  in  keeping  with  the  bird  itself,  which,  in 
every  respect  is  energetic,  hardy,  plain  and  blunt.  It  is 
particularly  his  note  of  a  beautiful  spring  evening,  hence  it 
has  been  designated  his  "evening  call."  If  those  most 
elegant  songsters,  the  Thrushes,  members  of  his  own 
family,  keeping  so  closely  to  the  thick  forests,  and  scarcely 
allowing  the  closest  observer  to  get  a  glimpse  of  them  while 
they  sing,  may  remind  one  of  people  of  refined  and  reserved 
habits,  and  "distant,  high-bred  ways,"  then  surely  the 
Robin  must  recall  the  inartistic  manners  of  the  more  com- 
mon people.  His  is  the  air  of  a  vigorous,  robust  pioneer. 

Though  sometimes  here  by  the  latter  part  of  February, 
and  soon  becoming  one  of  the  most  numerous  birds  of  the 
season,  he  gives  hardly  anything  worthy  to  be  called  a  song 
till  near  the  first  of  April.  Then  his  loud,  clear  warble,  if 
somewrhat  monotonous  and  less  expressive  of  sentiment 
than  that  of  the  Wood-thrush  or  the  Hermit,  is  a  most 
grateful  breaking  of  the  stillness  of  winter,  a  mitigation  of 
sharp  frosts  and  chill  showers — April  showers  always  tune 
him  up — a  never- failing  promise  of  all  the  joy  and  plenty  of 
the  year.  Then  truly  he  makes  "the  outgoings  of  the  even- 
ing and  the  morning  to  rejoice."  What  would  an  American 
spring  be  without  the  song  of  the  Robin  ? 

The  ragged  and  faded  appearance  of  the  Robin  in  mid- 
summer, after  the  excessive  cares  incident  to  the  rearing  of 
two  or  three  families,  is  but  a  poor  apology  for  his  modest 
but  truly  beautiful  colors  of  dark-gray,  black  and  golden- 
brown,  in  these  days  of  early  spring.  Even  Mrs.  Robin, 
though  not  so  dark  and  rich  in  tints  as  her  consort,  is  a  real 
model  of  plain  and  tasteful  elegance. 

The  farmer  or  gardener,  notwithstanding  certain  reminis- 
cences of  destruction  of  ripe  cherries  and  luscious  strawber- 
ries, cannot  but  be  convinced  of  the  friendship  and  co-oper- 


104  THE  RED-BELLIED    WOODPECKER. 

*r 

ation  of  the  Robin,  as  he  sees  him  scouring  meadows 
and  pastures  in  search  of  insects  in  general.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  estimate  his  labors  in  keeping  in  check  the 
Voraciousness  of  insect-life. 

In  this  locality  Robin's  beautiful  blue-green  eggs,  from 
three  to  five,  may  be  laid  already  by  the  middle  of  April; 
the  nest  being  a  rough  affair  of  stubble,  coarse  hay  and  mud, 
lined  with  finer  hay,  and  placed  anywhere  between  the 
ground  and  the  top  of  a  tree.  The  young  resemble  the 
old,  except  that  the  breast  is  pale  and  spotted  with  black 
and  white.  The  parents  are  very  noisy  in  defense  of  their 
nest  or  young. 

Already  in  September  the  Robins  begin  to  gather,  with  a 
great  deal  of  hurry,  and  bustle,  and  noise,  and,  flying  to  and 
fro,  in  preparation  for  their  southward  migration,  continue 
their  leave-taking  in  companies  till  late  in  the  fall. 

On  the  bright  October  evenings  of  last  year  (1879),  when 
the  cloudless  sky  wore  every  tint  of  rose,  violet,  orange,  yellow, 
and  green,  all  most  delicately  shaded  into  each  other  from 
horizon  to  zenith,  I  used  to  lie  down  in  the  field  and  watch 
the  Robins  constantly  passing  south,  with  steady  stroke  of 
wing  and  high  in  air,  sometimes  singly,  sometimes  in  pairs, 
sometimes  in  small  companies. 

Some  9-10  inches  long;  upper  parts  generally  dark- 
gray;  head  and  tail  blackish;  spots  around  the  eye,  under 
the  chin  and  on  the  tips  of  the  outer  tail-feathers,  and  the 
vent  white;  breast  and  under  parts  golden-brown. 

This  bird  is  characteristic  of  all  North  America,  and  to  the 
south  extends  a  little  beyond.  In  mild  winters  it  may 
remain  with  us  in  sheltered  places. 

THE    RED-BELLIED    WOODPECKER. 

It  is  the  5th  of  March,  and  I  am  in  the  woods  on  a  most 


THE  RED-BELLIED    WOODPECKER. 


105 


sad  errand.  A  dear  friend,  and  in  every  way  a  most  noble 
man,  has  been  instantly  killed  by  a  falling  tree,  and,  desir- 
ous to  know  every  possible  particular  concerning  the  event, 


THE   RED-BELLIED   WOODPECKER. 


I  am  carefully  studying  the  spot.  Looking  up  into  the  tall 
tree-tops,  whence  came  the  fatal  limb,  my  mind  is,  if 
possible,  momentarily  diverted  by  the  sight  of  a  bird  seldom 
seen  in  this  locality,  or  in  any  of  the  more  northern  districts, 
though  it  is  said  to  be  very  common  south  of  35°.  It  is 
the  Red-bellied  Woodpecker  (Centurus  carolinus),  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  the  smaller  species  of  its  tribe  in  this 
locality.  This  is  a  fine  male.  Somewhat  larger  than  the 
Hairy  Woodpecker,  some  10  long  and  17  in  extent,  he  has 
a  broad  strip  of  glossy  crimson,  extending  from  the  bill 


106  THE  RED-BELLIED    WOODPECKER: 

over  the  head  and  hind  neck,  the  rest  of  the  head,  neck 
and  under  parts  a  beautiful  light-ash  color,  with  a  tinge  of 
red  on  the  belly,  whence  the  common  name;  the  upper 
parts  jet-black,  with  fine  concentric  lines  and  rows  of  spots 
of  pure  white;  eyes  red.  The  female  differs  mainly  in  the 
absence  of  the  red  on  the  top  of  the  head,  that  mark  extend- 
ing only  up  the  back  of  the  neck  to  the  occiput. 

This  bird  has  a  hoarse  note,  resembling  chaw,  chaw,  and 
has  a  nest  and  eggs  like  those  of  the  rest  of  the  Wood- 
peckers. It  is  a  common  resident  throughout  the  year  in 
Northeastern  Ohio,  where  I  have  seen  its  nest  about  the 
middle  of  May. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  BLUFF  AND  THE   CAT-TAILS. 

BEFORE  studying  the  matter,  it  would  not  occur  to  one 
how  different  the  plants  and  animals  are  the  world  over. 
Each  individual  has  its  particular  locality  or  habitat. 
Sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  certain  species  of  Humming- 
birds, that  habitat  is  a  single  island  or  mountain;  again,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  Duck  Hawk  or  Osprey,  it  is,  in  its  various 
allied  forms,  nearly  or  quite  cosmopolitical.  Generally, 
however,  great  mountains  and  seas  or  changes  of  climate 
bound  these  habitats.  For  instance,  in  Eastern  North 
America  we  have  a  certain  set  of  birds,  extending  from  the 
Atlantic  Coast  westward  to  the  Rocky  Mountains;  but  from 
this  great  mountain  system,  running  north  and  south  the 
entire  length  of  the  continent,  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  there 
is  found  another  set,  generally  more  or  less  allied  to  ours 
indeed,  but  for  the  most  part  specifically  different.  Again, 
we  have  certain  species  peculiar  to  the  northern,  and  others 
peculiar  to  the  southern,  latitudes ;  and  between  the  plants 
and  animals  of  the  several  continents  the  difference  is  gener- 
ally very  great.  What  is  true  of  space,  in  this  respect,  is  still 
truer  of  time.  In  respect  to  the  fauna  of  the  various  geological 
ages,  the  differentiation  is  indeed  immense.  But  all  these 
vast  varieties  of  form  are  built  on  certain  fixed  plans  of 
structure.  The  great  classes,  orders,  and  families  have 
their  representatives  everywhere;  and,  while  these  types  of 


108  THE  RED-WINGED  BLACKBIRD. 

structure  have  been  generally  progressive  in  the  order  of 
time,  in  the  lower  forms  of  animal  life  there  are  some 
genera  which  seem  to  have  stood  almost  from  the  first 
dawn  of  life  to  the  present  time.  A  careful  bound- 
ing of  the  localities  occupied  by  the  various  animals  and 
plants  constitutes  the  science  of  their  geographical  distri- 
bution. 

In  respect  to  the  great  class  of  birds,  the  whole  world 
has  its  Owls,  Hawks,  Vultures,  Sparrows,  Shrikes,  Starlings, 
etc.;  but  the  species  differs  in  different  parts  of  the  world. 

THE    RED-WINGED  BLACKBIRD. 

In  the  most  typical  sense  the  Starlings  are  confined  to 
the  Old  World;  but,  by  a  little  broader  generalization, 
many  birds  of  our  own  country  may  be  included  under  that 


THE   RED-WINGED    BLACKBIRD. 


head.  For  instance,  on  this  7th  of  March,  as  I  stand  just 
south  of  a  bluff,  by  the  margin  of  a  cat-tail  swamp,  I  see  a 
large  flock  of  the  so-called  Red-winged  Starlings  or  Black- 


THE  RED-WINGED  BLACKBIRD.  109 

birds  (Agelceus  phoeniceus).  They  are  sometimes  here  a 
week  earlier,  and  are  always  partial  to  the  cat-tails. 
Indeed,  this  species  is  strictly  an  ornament  and  appurte- 
nance of  the  swamp.  The  male,  somewhat  smaller  than  a 
Robin,  8  or  9  inches  long,  is  clad  in  a  rich  jet-black  from 
tip  to  toe,  except  the  shoulders  of  his  wings,  which  are  of  a 
bright  glossy-scarlet,  .with  a  margin  of  light  orange.  He 
is  a  strikingly  beautiful  object  on  this  gray  and  naked 
landscape  of  the  early  spring.  How  spirited,  too,  he  seems, 
as  he  steps  and  flits  about,  jerking  his  tail,  uttering  his 
familiar  chuck,  chuck,  chuck,  and  every  now  and  then  adding 
his  distinctive  "  o-kal-ree-e-e-e-e-ee"  or  "  lo-kal-o-ree-e-e-e-e-ee" 
Until  the  arrival  of  the  female,  which  may  not  occur  for 
several  weeks,  he  will  appear  exceedingly  uneasy.  About 
this  time  he  will  take  some  conspicuous  position  in 
the  leafless  trees  or  bushes,  and  spreading  his  wings  and 
tail  by  a  jerking  motion,  and  waltzing  back  and  forth,  and 
bowing  most  gracefully,  his  wonted  song  becomes  more 
liquid  and  clear,  interspersed  with  an  occasional  rattling 
sound,  ending  in  a  loud,  clear  whistle.  In  color,  the  female 
is  very  unlike  her  mate.  Of  a  rich  dark-brown,  each  feather 
is  margined  with  light-brown  or  brownish-white,  the 
margins  being  broadest  and  lightest  on  the  breast  and 
underneath,  thus  making  those  parts  appear  noticeably 
lighter.  The  young  male  is  similar  to  the  female,  except 
that  the  margin  of  the  dark-brown  feathers  are  ruddy,  and 
the  shoulders  of  the  wings  of  a  beautiful  red,  mixed  with 
black.  The  young  female  is  somewhat  lighter  than  the 
mother.  In  the  autumn,  when  the  black  plumage  of  the 
mature  males  is  more  or  less  fringed  with  light-brown,  the 
whole  family  make  a  truly  beautiful  group. 

Early  in  May  the  nest  is  built  somewhere  in  or  about  a 
swamp,  generally  near  the  ground,  but  sometimes  in  a  bush 


110  THE  RED-WINGED  BLACKBIRD. 

or  even  in  a  tree;  in  my  locality,  for  the  most  part,  among 
the  cat-tails.  I  found  the  nests  very  abundant  on  St. 
Clair  Flats,  built  in  the  sedges  over  the  water.  It  is  a  basket- 
like  structure,  composed  outwardly  of  coarse,  flexible  mate- 
rials—  commonly  the  dried  leaves  of  the  cat- tails  and  sedges 
of  the  previous  year — fastened  near  the  base  of  the  old 
stalks  still  standing,  and  lined  with  fine  dried  grasses,  or 
occasionally  with  horse-hair.  It  belongs  to  the  style  of 
bird-structures  called  "basket-nests."  In  this  little  swamp  I 
have  sometimes  found  a  nest  every  few  rods,  or  even  every 
few  feet.  Then  it  is  interesting  to  note  the  difference 
between  the  several  sets  of  eggs.  Frequently  more  than  an 
inch  long,  they  are  often  much  less;  now  larger  and  quite 
pointed,  and  now  roundish;  the  delicate  tinge  of  green 
which  makes  the  ground-color  is  darker  or  lighter;  the 
markings,  in  the  form  of  pen-dashes,  dots  and  blotches, 
thick  and  heavy,  or  light  and  few,  scattered  over  the  entire 
surface,  in  a  wreath  near  the  middle,  or  in  a  bunch  at  the 
large  end.  These  odd  markings  appear  like  the  written 
symbols  of  some  strange  language.  The  Red-wings  gener- 
ally breed  more  or  less  in  communities.  As  with  the  rest 
of  the  Icteridae  family,  the  male  is  not  accustomed  to  take 
the  nest,  but  is  most  assiduously  attentive  to  the  female 
during  incubation.  Sometimes  two  broods  are  raised  in  a 
season  in  this  locality,  the  eggs  of  the  first  being  laid  in 
May  and  those  of  the  second  in  July. 

In  spring  and  early  summer  the  destruction  of  insect-life  by 
the  Red-winged  Blackbirds  is  incalculable.  Of  this  every  far- 
mer must  be  convinced,  as  he  observes  the  flocks  which  search 
the  pastures  and  plowed  grounds.  The  breeding  season  over, 
they  gather  in  immense  noisy  flocks,  and  are  exceedingly  de- 
structive to  corn  and  other  grains;  but,  probably,  in  nowise 
counteract  the  good  they  do  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  year. 


THE  RED-WINGED  BLACKBIRD.  \\\ 

On  the  winter  history  of  this  bird  in  the  Southern  States, 
Wilson  has  a  very  fine  paragraph:  "  The  Red-winged  Star- 
lings, though  generally  migratory  in  the  states  north  of 
Maryland,  are  found  during  winter  in  immense,  flocks  some- 
times associated  with  the  Purple  Grakles,  and  often ,  by 
themselves,  along  the  whole  lower  parts  of  Virginia,  both 
Carolinas,  Georgia  and  Louisiana,  particularly  near  the  sea- 
coast,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  large  rice  and  corn  fields.  In 
the  months  of  January  and  February,  while  passing  through 
the  former  of  these  countries,  I  was  frequently  entertained 
with  the  aerial  evolutions  of  these  great  bodies  of  Starlings. 
Sometimes  they  appeared  driving  about  like  an  enormous 
black  cloud  carried  before  the  wind,  varying  its  shape  every 
moment;  sometimes  suddenly  rising  from  the  fields  around 
me  with  a  noise  like  thunder;  while  the  glittering  of  innu- 
merable wings  of  the  brightest  vermilion  amid  the  black 
cloud  they  formed  produced  on  these  occasions  a  very 
striking  and  splendid  effect.  Then,  descending  like  a  tor- 
rent, and  covering  the  branches  of  some  detached  grove,  or 
clump  of  trees,  the  whole  congregated  multitude  commenced 
one  general  concert  or  chorus,  that  I  have  plainly  distin- 
guished at  the  distance  of  more  than  two  miles,  and,  when 
listened  to  at  the  intermediate  space  of  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  with  a  slight  breeze  of  wind  to  swell  and  soften  the 
flow  of  its  cadences,  was  to  me  grand,  and  even  sublime. 
The  whole  season  of  winter  that,  with  most  birds,  is  passed 
in  struggling  to  sustain  life  in  silent  melancholy,  is,  with  the 
Red-wings,  one  continued  carnival.  The  profuse  gleanings 
of  the  old  rice,  corn,  and  buckwheat  fields  supply  them  with 
abundant  food,  at  once  ready  and  nutritious;  and  the  inter- 
mediate time  is  spent  either  in  aerial  maneuvers  or  in 
grand  vocal  performances,  as  if  solicitous  to  supply  the 
absence  of  all  the  tuneful  summer  tribes,  and  to  cheer  the 


112  THE   CROW  BLACKBIRD. 

dejected  face  of  nature  with  their  whole  combined  powers 
of  harmony." 

Habitat:  "The  typical  form  throughout  temperate  North 
America,  and  south  to  Central  America.  Breeds  in  suitable 
places  from  Texas  to  the  Saskatchawan,  and  along  the  whole 
Atlantic  Coast.  Winters  from  about  35°  southward." 
(Coues). 

The  Yellow-headed  Blackbird  is  a  western  species,  some- 
times straggling  eastward  even  to  New  England. 

THE    CROW    BLACKBIRD. 

The  bluff  above  referred  to  is  well  clad  with  sumacs, 
dogwoods,  elders,  etc.  Here,  on  this  same  7th  of  March, 
but  more  particularly  along  the  creek  a  few  rods  away,  are 
small  flocks  of  the  Purple  Grakle,  or  Crow  Blackbird  (Quisca- 
luspurpureus).  They  fly  slowly  from  one  bush  to  another,  from 
the  bluff  to  the  bushes  along  the  creek,  and  then  back  to  the 
bluff  again,  their  tails,  folded  downward  in  the  middle,  being 
very  conspicuous,  and  their  constant  chuck,  chuck  very  like 
that  of  the  Red-wing,  only  in  a  little  hoarser  tone  and  on  a 
lower  key.  Like  the  latter,  the  former  are  quite  partial  to 
swamps  and  streams,  but  are  not  quite  so  confined  to  them, 
for  they  are  frequently  common  about  country  door-yards 
and  village  lots,  especially  such  as  abound  in  evergreens. 
They  are  often  abundant  in  cemeteries  which  are  well  orna- 
mented with  coniferae.  If  cat-tails  are  to  be  associated 
with  the  Red-wings,  evergreens  are  to  be  quite  as  much 
associated  with  the  Crow  Blackbirds.  Often,  indeed,  they 
affect  the  shadowy  recesses  of  the  thickly-branched  Lom- 
bardy  poplars.  As  the  plowman  turns  his  furrow  this  bird 
forms  a  part  of  the  newly-made  landscape.  Stepping  along 
the  fresh,  brown  ridges  with  a  peculiar  gracefulness,  his 
brilliant  hues,  with  a  bright,  metallic  lustre,  cannot  fail  to 


THE   CROW  BLACKBIRD.  113 

delight  the  eye.  Blue,  emerald,  purple,  and  bronze,  all 
gleam  and  flash  interchangeably  in  the  sunshine.  How 
quick  are  those  light-golden  eyes  to  detect  grubs,  beetles, 
chrysalids  and  worms!  The  male  being  about  12  inches  or 
more  in  length,  the  female  is  a  good  deal  smaller,  and  for 
the  most  part  of  a  plain  black,  being  wholly  without  the 
lustre  and  changeableness  of  the  male.  In  early  spring 
they  often  gather  in  quite  large  flocks,  chattering  and 
whistling  in  a  manner  thoroughly  noisy,  if  not  somewhat 
musical. 

Their  nest — made  early  in  May,  if  not  already  in  April, 
and  a  rather  bulky  structure  of  sticks  and  coarse  hay,  more 
particularly  the  latter,  often  cemented  with  mud,  lined  with 
fine  hay  and  some  horse-hair — is  placed  either  low  or  high  in 
a  tree,  an  evergreen  or  Lombardy  poplar  being  preferred; 
and  if  the  tree  is  large,  it  may  contain  a  number  of  nests. 
Wilson  says:  "A  singular  attachment  frequently  takes  place 
between  this  bird  and  the  Fish  Hawk.  The  nest  of  this 
latter  is  of  very  large  dimensions,  often  from  three  to  four 
feet  in  breadth,  and  from  four  to  five  feet  high;  composed, 
externally,  of  large  sticks,  or  fagots,  among  the  interstices 
of  which  sometimes  three  or  four  pairs  of  Crow  Blackbirds 
will  construct  their  nests,  while  the  Hawk  is  sitting  or 
hatching  above.  Here  each  pursues  the  duties  of  incubation 
and  of  rearing  its  young;  living  in  the  greatest  harmony, 
and  mutually  watching  and  protecting  each  other's  property 
from  depredators."  In  the  south  Audubon  says  the  nests  of 
these  Blackbirds  are  generally  placed  in  holes  of  trees  — 
often  in  a  deserted  Woodpecker's  nest.  The  same  manner 
of  nesting  has  recently  been  reported  from  some  parts  of 
the  north. 

The  eggs  of  the  Crow  Blackbird,  some  1.20  X  .82,  and 
four  or  five  in  number,  are  generally  greenish,  sometimes 
8 


114  THE   CROW  BLACKBIRD. 

brownish,  or  of  a  dirty  white,  specked,  spotted,  scratched  and 
blotched,  sometimes  thickly,  sometimes  sparingly,  with  light 
brown,  or  black.  It  seldom  raises  more  than  one  brood 
here. 

As  to  this  bird's  destructiveness  in  the  corn-field,  every 
one  has  heard  and  seen  enough.  Hence  the  merciless 
slaughter  which  he  meets,  and  the  dangling  of  his  dead 
body  in  terrorem.  But  if  we  are  not  to  "  muzzle  the  ox  that 
treadeth  out  the  corn,"  let  us  take  heed,  lest  we  grudge  the 
Blackbird  his  corn  unfairly.  Some  of  the  late  ornithologists, 
however,  affirm  that  this  bird,  a  near  relative  to  the  Crow  in 
habit  as  well  as  in  appearance,  is  given  to  sucking  other 
birds'  eggs  and  eating  their  young.  If  this  be  generally 
proven  against  him  he  will  smell  more  gunpowder  than  ever 
before. 

The  Crow  Blackbirds  find  their  winter  residence  in  the 
Southern  States.  "  Here,"  according  to  Wilson,  "  numerous 
bodies,  collecting  together  from  all  quarters  of  the  interior 
and  northern  districts,  and  darkening  the  air  with  their 
numbers,  sometimes  form  one  congregated  multitude  of 
many  hundred  thousands.  A  few  miles  from  the  banks  of 
the  Roanoke,  on  the  20th  of  January,  I  met  with  one  of 
those  prodigious  armies  of  Grakles.  They  rose  from  the 
surrounding  fields  with  a  noise  like  thunder,  and,  descend- 
ing on  the  length  of  road  before  me,  covered  it  and  the 
fences  completely  with  black;  and  when  they  again  rose, 
and,  after  a  few  evolutions,  descended  on  the  skirts  of  the 
high-timbered  woods,  at  that  time  destitute  of  leaves,  they 
produced  a  most  singular  and  striking  effect;  the  whole 
trees  for  a  considerable  extent,  from  the  top  to  the  lowest 
branches,  seemed  as  if  hung  in  mourning;  their  notes  and 
screaming  the  meanwhile  resembling  the  distant  sound  of  a 
great  cataract,  but  in  more  musical  cadence,  swelling  and 


THE    CEDAR  BIRD.  115 

dying  away  on  the  ear,  according  to  the  fluctuations  of  the 
breeze." 

Habitat:  Eastern  North  America,  north  to  Labrador, 
west  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  breeding  throughout  its 
range.  I  saw  none  in  Manitoulin  Island  and  vicinity 

As  to  the  so-called  Bronzed  Grakle  (Quiscalus  purpureus 
teneus),  now  differentiated  by  some,  and  supposed  to  breed 
a  little  further  north  than  the  last  described,  I  have  had  no 
opportunity  of  discriminating.  If,  indeed,  it  be  different 
from  the  Common  Crow  Blackbird,  it  must  be  very  similar. 

The  Boat-tailed  Grakle  of  the  south  (Quiscalus  major)  is 
scarcely  more  than  the  former  on  a  larger  pattern.  About 
16.00  long,  it  is  about  one-fourth  larger,  and  its  habits 
are  very  similar.  The  flight  is  slow,  straightforward,  the 
heavy  boat-shaped  tail  seeming  to  tip  the  bird  up  in  front. 
It  is  noisy,  and  partial  to  the  vicinity  of  water,  often  wading 
for  its  molluscous  diet.  Its  nests,  which  are  in  community 
after  the  manner  of  its  congener  here  and  also  its  corvine 
relations  in  the  old  world,  is  sometimes  placed  in  a  bush  or 
tree,  but  commonly  in  the  tall  saw-grass  of  the  southern 
marshes.  The  structure  is  large  and  coarse,  is  tied  to  the 
grass-stems  about  four  feet  from  the  ground,  and  generally 
contains  three  eggs,  similar  to  those  of  the  Crow  Black- 
bird, but  larger — about  1.27  X  -85.  It  winters  in  the 
extreme  Southern  States,  and  reaches  regularly  the  Carolinas 
in  summer. 

THE    CEDAR    BIRD. 

On  the  top  of  the  bluff  stands  the  first  row  of  trees  of  a 
large  orchard.  On  one  of  these  alights  a  flock  of  birds, 
sometimes  found  here  in  small  numbers  even  in  winter,  but 
always  appearing  in  flocks  very  early  in  spring.  There  are 
some  forty  of  them,  and  they  move  with  the  regularity  of 
a  perfectly  disciplined  army,  flying  as  compactly  as  pos- 


116  THE   CEDAR  BIRD. 

sible,  and  all  having  precisely  the  same  motion,  and  alight- 
ing so  similarly  that  the  attitude  of  one  is  the  attitude  of 
the  whole  flock.  Few  things  in  the  movement  of  bird-life 
are  more  interesting  than  this  perfect  uniformity  of  motion 
of  a  group  of  Cedar  Birds  (Ampelis  ccdrorum),  as  if  one  life 
directed  them  all.  How  spirited  and  graceful  they  are!  Some 
six  or  seven  inches  long,  slender,  beautifully  crested,  the  plum- 
age remarkably  blended  and  glossy;  in  color,  a  rich  brown, 
becoming  reddish  on  the  breast  and  about  the  head;  chin, 
forehead,  and  band  across  the  eyes  to  occiput,  black,  partly 
margined  with  a  line  of  white;  belly,  yellow;  under  tail 
coverts,  white;  wings,  rump  and  tail,  bluish-drab;  darker 
toward  the  end  of  the  tail,  which  is  margined  with  bright 
sulphur-yellow;  secondaries,  generally  tipped  with  flattened 
appendages,  the  color  of  bright-red  sealing-wax.  The 
female  is  similar  to  the  male,  and  the  young  differ  but  little. 
Occasionally  an  old  male  is  found  with  red,  wax-like  tips 
on  the  tail  feathers,  or  even  on  some  of  the  feathers  of  the 
crest. 

As  I  watch  the  flock  in  the  bright,  warm  sunshine  they 
become  more  careless  in  attitude  and  motion,  and  presently 
become  fly-catchers,  making  little  circuits  after  their  prey, 
and  seeming  rather  drowsy,  for  them.  This  fly-catching  is 
quite  indicative  of  their  habit  in  part;  for  despite  their 
frugivorous  propensities,  they  destroy  no  small  number  of 
insects  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  especially  the  larvae 
of  the  Canker  Worm. 

Watch  these  same  Cedar  Birds  in  some  secluded  dell 
affording  a  rocky  stream  —  watch  them  in  the  delicious 
quiet  and  ruddy  glow  of  the  evening.  How  gracefully 
they  alight  on  the  larger  rocks  rising  above  the  surface  of 
the  water;  and,  standing  almost  straight,  with  crests  erect, 
how  noiselessly  they  describe  their  elegant  circles  in  the 


THE    CEDAR   BIRD.  117 

midst  of  clouds  of  gnats  and  midges.  You  hear  no  snap- 
ping of  the  bill,  as  in  the  case  of  Fly-catchers  similarly 
engaged,  but  each  little  detour  signifies  the  destruction  of 
one  or  more  of  these  tiny  insects. 

This  imitation  of  the  Fly-catchers  the  farmer  will  scarcely 
admit,  as  he  recalls  the  more  destructive  habits  of  this  bird, 
how  he  appears  singly,  or  in  large  numbers,  on  the  sweet 
cherry-tree  of  early  summer,  pilfers  blackberries  and  rasp- 
berries, strips  the  rich,  ornamental  clusters  from  the  mountain 
ash;  in  short,  fills  himself  with  fruit  to  the  very  throat,  even 
dropping  and  dying,  in  some  cases,  of  sheer  gluttony — all 
this  without  the  least  apology  for  a  song — nothing  in  the 
way  of  a  note  but  a  sly  tseep,  tseep,  scarcely  loud  enough  to 
be  a  warning  to  the  ordinary  ear — nothing,  in  short,  to 
recommend  him  but  his  graceful  carriage  and  fine  clothes, 
unless,  indeed,  the  ornithologist  can  vindicate  him  as  a 
"fly-catcher"  and  "worm-eater,"  and  so  secure  a  balance 
of  sentiment  in  his  favor.  This  vindication  we  believe  to  be 
possible.  At  any  rate,  as  a  beautiful  ornament  in  nature, 
he  is  entitled  to  some  support,  especially  by  those  who 
regard  "a  thing  of  beauty  a  joy  forever."  I  never  could 
justify  a  certain  old  gentleman  of  my  acquaintance  who 
shot  eighty  of  these  "orchard  beauties"  from  a  single 
sweet  cherry-tree  in  a  few  hours.  I  would  rather  have  set 
out  more  cherry-trees. 

Strange  to  say,  though  this  bird  is  here  among  the  first, 
and  in  large  flocks,  some  few  even  remaining  through  the 
winter,  it  does  not  ordinarily  begin  a  nest  till  late  in  June 
or  in  July,  perhaps  because  the  favorite  fruits  on  which  it 
feeds  its  young,  after  a  course  of  insects  in  their  earliest 
babyhood,  are  not  sooner  available.  This  nest  is  generally 
in  a  tree  in  the  orchard,  and  is  rather  bulky  and  coarsely 
built  for  so  trim  a  bird,  being  composed  outwardly  of  small 


118  THE   CEDAR  BIRD. 

sticks  and  coarse  grasses;  inwardly,  of  sprigs  of  larch,  fine, 
dried  grasses,  or  horse-hair,  quite  a  little  wool,  or  vegetable 
down,  being  occasionally  used,  or  even  a  large  quantity  of 
fine  rootlets.  The  eggs,  4  or  5,  some  .82  x  .62,  are  light- 
green,  or  dingy  white,  specked  and  spotted  with  dark 
purple  and  black. 

I  once  found  a  young  one,  full-grown,  held  to  the  nest  by 
a  horse-hair,  which  had  grown  into  the  foot.  It  had  the 
waxen  tips  on  its  wings,  showing  that  this  peculiarity  is  not 
wholly  a  matter  of  age. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
ALONG    THE    CREEK. 

Y\O  you  know  that  the  Wild  Geese  are  here  ?"  inquired  a 

JL'  friend  of  mine  at  Oak  Orchard  Creek,  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  16th  of  March.  "I  fired  into  a  large  flock  in  the 
wheat-field  to-day  and  killed  two." 

"Indeed!  I  am  aware  that  they  are  quite  destructive  to 
the  wheat-fields  for  some  four  or  five  weeks  in  early  spring, 
all  along  the  south  of  Lake  Ontario,"  I  replied. 

The  Canada,  or  Common  Wild  Goose  (Branta  canadensis), 
is  the  one  referred  to;  and  the  two  specimens,  male  and 
female,  are  now  mounted  and  before  me  in  my  study.  The 
male  is  some  38  inches,  and  the  female  some  34  inches  in 
length,  thus  appearing  considerably  larger  than  the  com- 
mon domestic  Goose.  The  general  color  is  a  rich,  dark- 
gray,  the  plumage  edged  with  lighter;  bill,  head,  neck, 
lower  back,  tips  of  wings,  tail,  and  feet,  black;  patch  across 
the  throat  and  up  the  sides  of  the  head,  and  sometimes  the 
upper  breast,  grayish-white;  vent  and  coverts  at  the  root  of 
the  tail,  pure  white. 

There  is  not  a  more  characteristic  bird  in  all  North 
America.  Moving  northward  in  large,  noisy  flocks  in 
spring,  and  southward  in  a  similar  manner  in  autumn,  it 
is  the  sure  herald  of  the  departure  of  the  Ice  King,  as  well 
as  of  his  return.  Who  does  not  know  of  the  Wild  Goose  ? — 
that  it  is  the  most  sensitive  of  all  our  animated  nature  to 


120  THE   CANADA    GOOSE, 

the  great  changes  of  temperature  about  to  take  place;  that 
it  is  surely  an  evil  omen,  in  the  dubious  days  of  spring,  to 
see  it  retracing  its  course  southward.  The  beautiful  mili- 
tary order  of  the  flight  of  these  birds  —  how,  under  the 
direction  of  some  accepted  leader,  they  move  now  in  form 
of  a  straight  line,  now  in  the  manner  of  an  angle  of  varia- 
ble degrees,  every  now  and  then  some  of  them  changing 
positions,  that  the  stronger  and  fresher  may  take  its  turn 
in  clearing  the  air,  while  the  weaker  and  more  weary  take 
the  advantage  of  the  wake — must  be  familiar  to  all  who 
have  at  all  observed  these  grand  movements.  The  confused 
"hanking,"  "clanging"  notes,  too,  which  seem  almost  to 
keep  time  with  the  beat  of  wings,  must  be  equally  familiar. 

In  Western  New  York,  at  present,  the  Canada  Goose  is 
simply  a  migrant,  except  as  it  "  occasionally  nests  at  large 
in  the  United  States"  (Coues),  where  in  former  times  its 
nidification  was  common.  (Audubon.)  These  birds  come  in 
flocks  from  the  south  into  our  lake  counties  of  Western  New 
York  soon  after  the  middle  of  March,  and  remain  with  us 
some  4-6  weeks.  During  this  time  they  may  be  seen  almost 
constantly  riding  on  the  water  near  the  shores  of  Lake  Ontario. 
At  day-break,  and  again  in  the  afternoon,  they  fly  inland  to 
feed  in  wheat-fields  on  the  tender,  succulent  blades,  or  in  the 
richer  meadows.  On  leaving  the  lake  they  are  silent,  but  fill 
the  air  with  their  clangor  on  returning.  By  the  utmost 
vigilance  a  few  are  shot;  but  they  generally  alight  on  some 
eminence  where  there  is  a  good  outlook  in  every  direction, 
and  some  wary  gander  is  constantly  on  the  alert. 

The  Canada  Goose  breeds  more  or  less  commonly  in  Lab- 
rador and  to  the  northward.  Mr.  James  Fortiscue  says 
of  their  breeding  about  York  Factory,  Hudson's  Bay: 
"Hatch  everywhere,  up  in  woods  and  swamps;  nests  made 
of  sticks  and  hay,  lined  with  feathers." 


THE   CANADA    GOOSE.  121 

In  the  extreme  Northwestern  States  it  is  said  to  breed  in 
trees.  It  is  now  known  to  breed  abundantly  in  the  North- 
west Territory,  especially  along  the  Assinniboin  River  with 
its  many  tributaries.  It  usually  makes  its  nest  on  the 
ground,  near  some  stream  or  sheet  of  water,  often  on 
secluded  islands  in  larger  rivers.  One  nest  found  by 
Audubon  "  was  placed  on  the  stump  of  a  large  tree  stand- 
ing in  the  center  of  a  small  pond,  about  twenty  feet  high, 
and  contained  five  eggs."  The  same  author  says:  "The 
greatest  number  of  eggs  which  I  have  found  in  the  nest  of 
this  species  was  nine,  which  I  think  is  more  by  three  than 
these  birds  usually  lay  in  a  wild  state."  Again:  "The 
eggs  measure,  on  an  average,  3.50  X  2.50,  are  thick- 
shelled,  rather  smooth,  and  of  a  very  dull  yellowish- 
green  color.  The  period  of  incubation  is  twenty-eight 
.days.  They  never  have  more  than  one  brood  in  a  season, 
unless  their  eggs  are  removed  or  broken  at  an  early  period. 
The  young  follow  their  parents  to  the  water  a  day  or  two 
after  they  have  issued  from  .the  egg,  but  generally  return  to 
land  to  repose  in  the  sunshine  in  the  evening,  and  pass 
the  night  there  under  their  mother,  who  employs  all 
imaginable  care  to  insure  their  comfort  and  safety,  as  does 
her  mate,  who  never  leaves  her  during  incubation  for  a 
longer  time  than  is  necessary  for  procuring  food,  and  takes 
her  place  at  intervals.  Both  remain  with  their  brood  until 
the  following  spring.  It  is  during  the  breeding  season  that 
the  gander  displays  his  courage  and  strength  to  the  greatest 
advantage.  I  knew  one  that  appeared  larger  than  usual, 
and  of  which  all  the  lower  parts  were  of  a  rich  cream-color. 
It  returned  three  years  in  succession  to  a  large  pond  a  few 
miles  from  the  mouth  of  Green  River,  in  Kentucky,  and 
whenever  I  visited  the  nest  it  seemed  to  look  upon  me 
with  utter  contempt.  It  would  stand  in  a  stately  atti- 


122  THE   CANADA    GOOSE. 

tude  until  I  reached  within  a  few  yards  of  the  nest,  when, 
suddenly  lowering  its  head,  and  shaking  it  as  if  it  were 
dislocated  from  the  neck,  it  would  open  its  wings  and  launch 
into  the  air,  flying  directly  at  me.  So  daring  was  this  fine 
fellow,  that  in  two  instances  he  struck  me  a  blow  with  one 
of  his  wings  on  the  right  arm,  which,  for  an  instant,  I 
thought  was  broken.  I  observed  that  immediately  after 
such  an  effort  to  defend  his  nest  and  mate,  he  would  run 
swiftly  towards  them,  pass  his  head  and  neck  several  times 
over  and  around  the  female,  and  again  assume  his  attitude 
of  defiance." 

The  same  author  says:  "  It  is  extremely  amusing  to  wit- 
ness the  courtship  of  the  Canada  Goose  in  all  its  stages; 
and  let  me  assure  you,  reader,  that  although  a  gander  does 
not  strut  before  his  beloved  with  the  pomposity  of  a 
Turkey,  or  the  grace  of  a  Dove,  his  ways  are  quite  as 
agreeable  to  the  female  of  his  choice.  I  can  imagine  before 
me  one  who  has  just  accomplished  the  defeat  of  another 
male  after  a  struggle  of  half  an  hour  or  more.  He  advances 
gallantly  towards  the  object  of  his  attention,  his  head 
scarcely  raised  an  inch  from  the  ground,  his  bill  open  to  its 
full  stretch,  his  fleshy  tongue  elevated,  his  eyes  darting  fiery 
glances,  and  as  he  moves  he  hisses  loudly,  while  the  emotion 
which  he  experiences  causes  his  quills  to  shake,  and  his 
feathers  to  rustle.  Now  he  is  close  to  her  who,  in  his  eyes, 
is  all  loveliness,  his  neck  bending  gracefully  in  all  directions, 
passes  all  around  her,  and  occasionally  touches  her  body; 
and  as  she  congratulates  him  on  his  victory,  and  acknowl- 
edges his  affection,  they  move  their  necks  in  a  hundred 
curious  ways.  At  this  moment  fierce  jealousy  urges  the 
defeated  gander  to  renew  his  efforts  to  obtain  his  love;  he 
advances  apace,  his  eye  glowing  with  the  fire  of  rage;  he 
shakes  his  broad  wings,  ruffles  up  his  whole  plumage,  and 


THE    CANADA    GOOSE.  123 

as  he  rushes  on  the  foe,  hisses  with  the  intensity  of  anger. 
The  whole  flock  seems  to  stand  amazed,  and  opening  up  a 
space,  the  birds  gather  round  to  view  the  combat.  The 
bold  bird,  who  has  been  caressing  his  mate,  scarcely  deigns 
to  take  notice  of  his  foe,  but  seems  to  send  a  scornful  glance 
towards  him,  He  of  the  mortified  feelings,  however,  raises 
his  body,  half  opens  his  sinewy  wings,  and  with  a  powerful 
blow,  sends  forth  his  defiance.  The  affront  cannot  be  borne 
in  the  presence  of  so  large  a  company,  nor  indeed  is  there 
much  disposition  to  bear  it  in  any  circumstances;  the  blow 
is  returned  with  vigor,  the  aggressor  reels  for  a  moment, 
but  he  soon  recovers,  and  now  the  combat  rages.  Were  the 
weapons  more  deadly,  feats  of  chivalry  would  now  be  per- 
formed; as  it  is,  thrust  and  blow  succeed  each  other  like  the 
strokes  of  hammers  driven  by  sturdy  forgers.  But  now,  the 
mated  gander  has  caught  hold  of  his  antagonist's  head  with 
his  bill;  no  bull-dog  could  cling  faster  to  his  victim;  he 
squeezes  him  with  all  the  energy  of  rage,  lashes  him  with 
his  powerful  wings,  and  at  length  drives  him  away,  spreads 
out  his  pinions,  runs  with  joy  to  his  mate,  and  fills  the  air 
with  cries  of  exultation." 

D.  H.  Bunn,  a  man  well  capable  of  telling  what  he  sees, 
reports  the  following  incident,  as  occurring  in  Madison 
County,  New  York,  some  twenty  years  ago:  During  a  night 
of  thick  fog  in  early  spring,  a  flock  of  geese  passing  over, 
twenty-five  of  them  struck  against  a  large  factory.  Lodging 
near  by,  he  heard  the  blow,  roused  his  companions,  and 
they  went  out  with  lanterns.  In  a  sort  of  alder-swamp,  on 
that  side  of  the  building  which  the  birds  had  encountered, 
they  found  the  stunned  and  disconcerted  creatures  hanging 
entangled  in  the  alders,  or  splashing  about  the  water;  and 
after  being  well  pinched  and  bitten,  and  soundly  thumped  by 
their  powerful  wings,  the  party  succeeded  in  capturing  them. 


124  THE  MALLARD. 

The  Canada  Goose  spends  the  winter  in  large  flocks,  in 
the  middle  and  more  southern  portions  of  our  continent. 
A  variety  of  this  same  species,  called  Hutchin's  Goose,  is 
sparingly  found  to  the  eastward,  and  is  very  abundant  in  the 
northwest.  Mr.  Fortiscue  thinks  there  are  not  less  than 
four  closely-allied  species  of  this  kind  of  goose  at  Hudson's 
Bay. 

THE    MALLARD. 

March  17th,  on  a  bright  sunny  morning  after  a  light  fall  of 
snow,  I  wandered  along  Oak  Orchard  Creek  —  a  purling 
stream  some  three  or  four  rods  in  width  —  and  found  the 
Mallard  (Anas  boschas),  and  the  Dusky  or  Black  Duck  (Anas 
obscura))  in  considerable  numbers.  The  former — a  bird  of 
the  stream  and  lake  rather  than  of  the  sea  —  is  found  very 
sparingly  in  New  England  and  immediately  to  the  north- 
ward, but  plentifully  from  New  York  southward,  especially 
in  Florida,  in  winter;  and  it  is  abundant  in  the  far  north- 
west in  summer.  As  it  moves  smoothly  and  gracefully 
along  the  quiet  stream,  or  rises  in  flight,  or  more  especially 
as  it  almost  hovers  overhead  in  the  presence  of  danger,  it  is 
a  truly  beautiful  object.  The  rich  glossy-green  of  the  neck 
of  the  male,  his  yellow  bill  and  legs,  the  rich  vinous-brown 
of  his  breast,  and  the  gray  of  his  under  parts,  the  pure  white 
tail  of  gracefully-pointed  feathers,  ornamented  by  the 
recurved  upper  tail  coverts  of  glossy-green  or  purple,  are 
simply  resplendent  in  the  bright  morning  sun,  so  intensified 
by  the  reflection  from  the  pure  sparkling  sheet  of  snow. 
As  he  is  brought  down,  so  that  one  can  examine  the  deep 
black  of  the  lower  back,  the  delicately-penciled  gray  of  his 
shoulders,  scapulars  and  tertiaries,  all  set  off  by  his  dark 
wing  with  its  beauty  spot  of  green  or  violet  margined  with 
black  and  white,  one  concludes  that  his  brilliancy  is  scarcely 
surpassed  by  anything  on  our  waters.  He  seems  by  con- 


-THE  MALLARD.  125 

trast  to  be  more  complete,  too,  when  by  the  side  of  his 
female  of  plainer  beauty  —  her  plumage  being  rich  brown 
margined  with  lighter,  chin  and  throat  whitish,  beauty  spot 
nearly  as  in  the  male.  "  Nearly  cosmopolitan,  and  nearly 
everywhere  domesticated,"  breeding  more  or  less  sparingly 
throughout  the  United  States,  and  more  particularly  to  the 
north,  the  Mallard  mates  in  winter  and  in  early  spring;  and 
builds  a  nest  of  coarse  materials  in  the  marsh,  lining  it,  if 
far  north,  with  down  from  its  breast  so  plentifully  that  the 
eggs,  some  eight  to  a  dozen,  and  of  a  delicate  or  sometimes 
dingy  greenish-white,  can  be  covered  with  the  same  on 
leaving  them. 

On  St.  Clair  Flats,  where  I  found  the  Mallard  breeding 
quite  commonly,  the  nest,  which  might  be  built  in  the 
sedges  over  the  water,  but  more  commonly  on  a  knoll  or 
against  a  log  in  the  flooded  marsh  or  among  the  bushes  on 
the  highest  ridges,  never  contained  much  down.  If  the 
number  of  eggs  were  incomplete,  or  they  were  fresh-laid, 
and  therefore  the  entire  nest  as  yet  imperfect,  there  was  no 
down  at  all.  The  elegant  green  tint  is  quite  peculiar  to  the 
egg  of  this  Duck. 

Unlike  the  Geese,  but  like  other  Ducks  and  the  Mergan- 
sers, as  well  as  some  other  water-birds,  the  male  now  leaves 
the  female  to  care  for  her  eggs  and  her  young  family  alone, 
while  he,  along  with  other  heartless  husbands  and  fathers  of 
the  same  kind,  spends  the  remainder  of  the  breeding  season 
in  leisurely  roaming,  unless,  indeed,  the  female  lose  her  nest, 
and  then  she  goes  in  search  of  the  male. 

The  female  meanwhile  is  most  signally  faithful  to  her 
charge.  She  will  remain  on  the  nest  till  almost  trodden  upon, 
and  then  often  alighting  near  by,  will  stretch  out  her  neck, 
spread  her  tail,  and  flap  her  wings  on  the  water,  in  a  manner 
equal  to  the  arts  of  the  little  Waders  when  similarly  disturbed. 


126  THE  MALLARD. 

"  I  have  found  the  Mallard,"  says  Audubon,  "  breeding  on 
large,  prostrate  and  rotten  logs,  three  feet  above  the  ground, 
and  in  the  center  of  a  canebrake,  nearly  a  mile  distant  from 
any  water.  Once  I  found  a  female  leading  her  young 
through  the  woods,  and  no  doubt  conducting  them  towards 
the  Ohio.  When  I  first  saw  her  she  had  already  observed 
me,  and  had  squatted  flat  among  the  grass,  with  her  brood 
around  her.  As  I  moved  onwards,  she  ruffled  her  feathers, 
and  hissed  at  me  in  the  manner  of  a  goose,  while  the  little 
ones  scampered  off  in  all  directions.  I  had  an  excellent 
dog,  well  instructed  to  catch  young  birds  without  injuring 
them,  and  I  ordered  him  to  seek  for  them.  On  this  the 
mother  took  wing,  and  flew  through  the  woods  as  if  about 
to  fall  down  at  every  yard  or  so.  She  passed  and  repassed 
over  the  dog,  as  if  watching  the  success  of  his  search;  and 
as  one  after  another  the  ducklings  were  brought  to  me  and 
struggled  in  my  bird-bag,  the  distressed  parent  came  to  the 
ground  near  me,  rolled  and  tumbled  about,  and  so  affected 
me  by  her  despair  that  I  ordered  my  dog  to  lie  down, 
while,  with  a  pleasure  that  can  be  felt  only  by  those  who 
are  parents  themselves,  I  restored  to  her  the  innocent  brood 
and  walked  off.  As  I  turned  round  to  observe  her,  I  really 
thought  I  could  perceive  gratitude  expressed  in  her  eye; 
and  a  happier  moment  I  never  felt  while  rambling  in  search 
of  knowledge  through  the  woods." 

The  voice  of  the  Mallard,  and  its  manner  of  feeding  by 
immersing  its  head  and  neck,  or  by  tipping  perpendicularly 
half  out  and  half  under  the  water,  are  so  well  illustrated  by 
the  domestic  Duck  as  to  need  no  explanation  here.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  this  is  one  of  those  members  of  the  animal  creation 
which  have  ministered  incalculably  to  the  comfort  and  sup- 
port of  man. 


THE  DUSKY  DUCK.  127 

THE   DUSKY    DUCK. 

Screened  by  a  small  hemlock  on  the  bank  of  the  creek,  I 
have  a  good  view  of  a  flock  of  some  dozen  Dusky,  or  Black 
Ducks,  as  they  fly  up  the  stream.  They  are  very  large,  and 
look  quite  dark,  except  the  underside  of  the  wings,  which  is 
white,  and  which  gives  a  fine  effect  in  flight.  How  great 
the  rapidity  and  momentum  of  that  flight  is  we  have  but 
little  idea,  till  the  bird,  ceasing  the  rapid  strokes  of  its 
wings,  and  bending  them  downward  like  the  arcs  of  a  circle, 
prepares  to  alight.  Then  that  smooth  body,  with  out- 
stretched head  and  neck,  and  wings  which  cut  the  air  like 
sabers,  like  a  huge  arrow  rushes  through  the  air;  and  it 
must  sail  some  distance  before  the  force  of  its  momentum  is 
sufficiently  spent  to  allow  it  to  reach  the  earth  in  safety. 

A  few  rods  above  me  these  Ducks  drop  gracefully  down, 
striking  the  water  so  easily,  and  parting  it  with  such  a 
pretty  plash,  as  to  impress  me  with  the  beauty  possible  to 
motion,  and  with  the  tranquil  happiness  of  these  creatures 
in  their  undisturbed  haunts;  The  stream  being  shallow, 
they  can  easily  reach  their  food  by  plunging  their  heads,  in 
which  act  they  throw  up  their  feet  and  hinder  parts  in  a 
manner  quite  amusing.  They  plunge,  dart  around  in  a 
hurry-skurry  manner,  straighten  out  their  necks  and  flap 
their  wings,  thus  seeming  to  sit  almost  on  their  tails  on  the 
water;  and,  finally  getting  a  glimpse  of  me,  they  rush  out 
of  the  water  into  the  air  with  a  splashing  that  brings  me  to 
my  feet;  and  I  fire,  bringing  down  a  fine  pair,  which  I 
readily  secure  as  they  float  down  stream  by  wading  in  with 
my  long  rubber-boots.  About  two  feet  long,  of  a  dark 
brown,  the  feathers  edged  with  lighter,  the  beauty  spot  a 
rich  violet,  the  male  and  female  about  alike,  this  species 
cannot  easily  be  mistaken.  It  is  by  far  the  most  common 
Duck  in  this  locality,  being  really  abundant  in  the  migra- 


128  THE  DUSKY  DUCK. 

tions,  and  quite  a  few  remaining  to  breed  in  suitable  places. 
When  passing  north  in  spring,  sometimes  in  single  pairs, 
sometimes  in  groups  of  pairs,  they  seem  to  tarry  for  a  few 
weeks,  selecting  certain  feeding  grounds  —  shallow  pools 
and  ditches  about  the  fields  —  to  which  they  attend  regu- 
larly, unless  seriously  disturbed.  Like  the  Mallards,  they 
are  particularly  Ducks  of  the  ponds  and  the  puddle-holes. 
Here,  by  proper  caution  in  the  use  of  some  screen,  they 
may  be  easily  shot,  especially  about  day-break.  These 
Ducks,  as  also  the  Mallards,  are  occasionally  seen  in  enor- 
mous flocks  in  early  spring  on  submerged  grain-fields  of 
the  previous  year,  in  the  vicinity  of  Tonawanda  Swamp,  a 
large  territory  extending  along  the  southern  border  of  this 
county  (Orleans),  and  many  miles  beyond. 

On  the  7th  of  last  April  (1881),  the  Ducks  flew  in  great  num- 
bers in  these  flooded  regions.  I  was  watching  them  from  a 
retired  point  of  view.  They  flew  mostly  in  pairs,  and  were 
nearly  all  of  the  species  I  am  now  describing.  I  noticed 
that  they  all  made  for  a  certain  corner  of  a  flooded  field 
which  was  nearly  surrounded  by  a  forest.  They  would  fly 
in  grand  circles  around  it  and  at  a  considerable  height  for 
some  time,  and  having  thus  thoroughly  surveyed  the 
ground,  would  sail  with  down-curved  wings  till  the  great 
momentum  of  their  speed  was  broken,  and  then  drop  down 
gradually,  holding  the  body  in  an  oblique  position,  and 
flapping  the  wings  forward  just  as  a  bird  does  in  hovering, 
thus  alighting  easily  and  gracefully.  Being  curious  to 
see  the  place  of  rendezvous,  I  crept  stealthily  around  to 
one  side  of  it,  but  before  I  could  get  within  gunshot  the 
Ducks  rose  en  masse.  There  must  have  been  many  hun- 
dreds, and  the  noise  of  their  wings  was  like  the  roll  of 
thunder.  I  hid  behind  the  fence,  thinking  they  might 
return;  but  these  Ducks  are  very  shy,  and  gave  me  no 


THE  DUSKY  DUCK.  129 

opportunity  for  a  shot  that  evening.  I  watched  for  them 
the  next  morning  before  daylight,  but  it  had  frozen  hard, 
and  they  had  all  disappeared.  Where  had  they  gone  ?  I 
went  to  Lake  Ontario  the  same  day,  but  could  not  find  them. 

Being  on  the  ground  again  a  week  later,  and  being  curi- 
ous to  know  where  the  Ducks  spent  the  night,  I  was  advised 
to  push  my  boat  into  a  flooded  region  of  a  thick  second 
growth  of  varied  trees  and  bushes  of  the  lowlands,  about 
sundown,  and  watch  their  movements.  As  the  rosy  tints  of 
sunset  were  fading  out  of  the  sky,  the  Ducks,  nearly  all  of 
the  kind  now  under  review,  began  to  circle  over  the  spot; 
and  every  now  and  then  a  pair  would  drop  down  after  the 
manner  of  alighting  above  described,  and  with  a  sharp 
flutter  and  rustle  of  the  wings,  reach  the  water  with  a 
heavy  splash.  They  continued  to  come  until  dark,  large 
numbers  thus  spending  the  night  floating  on  these  quiet 
waters  in  the  security  of  the  trees  and  the  bushes. 

Before  day  the  next  morning  I  was  at  the  favorite  ren- 
dezvous where  I  had  seen  so  many  Ducks  the  week  before. 
As  the  cold  sky  of  the  night  began  to  assume  the  soft 
golden  hues  of  the  coming  morning  —  a  change  which  takes 
place  quite  suddenly  —  the  Ducks  began  to  arrive.  This 
time  there  was  none  of  that  cautious  reconnoitering  of  the 
place,  which  is  common  to  these  birds  at  other  times  of 
day.  I  could  hear  them  squaking,  without  any  reserve 
whatever,  some  time  before  they  reached  the  spot,  and  as 
they  arrived,  they  immediately  dropped  down  in  their  flut- 
tering, rustling  manner,  the  sound  of  which,  coming  so 
near  my  screen  by  a  tree  in  the  open  field,  had  a  very 
exciting  effect  upon  me  in  this  deep  light  of  the  morn- 
ing. To  watch  their  sprightly  and  happy  movements  in 
this  state  of  perfect  freedom  was  well  worth  all  the  incon- 
venience of  rising  early,  walking  far  and  shivering  in  the 
9 


130  THE  DUSKY  DUCK. 

cold.  As  the  morning  light  became  clear,  I  could  see  a  pair 
of  Mallards  in  the  crowd;  the  rest  were  all  Dusky  Ducks. 
None,  however,  were  near  enough  for  a  shot;  and  as  the 
light  intensified,  and  my  screen  was  noted  as  a  new  addition 
to  the  landscape,  on  a  slight  squaking  signal  by  one  es- 
pecially on  the  alert,  they  all  left  with  a  rush. 

On  the  22d  of  last  September  I  was  at  Lake  Ontario. 
The  Dusky  Ducks  were  there  in  immense  numbers.  Through 
the  glass  I  could  see  a  flock  of  several  hundreds  a  few  miles 
out  from  the  shore.  They  sat  on  the  water,  as  the  hunters 
say,  in  great  windrows.  The  lake  was  smooth,  but  there 
was  a  gentle,  undulating  motion  of  the  water;  and  the 
whole  flock,  with  here  and  there  a  sentinel  on  the  alert, 
were  resting  with  their  bills  under  their  scapulars,  as  if 
asleep.  The  glass  was  powerful,  bringing  the  birds  imme- 
diately before  me;  and  the  sight  was  as  serenely  happy  as 
one  could  wish  to  see  in  the  varied  and  delightful  domain 
of  nature.  Presently  one  of  the  crowd  yawned  and 
stretched  itself  upright,  and  flapped  its  wings  joyously  on 
the  water,  and  all  followed  the  example,  making  a  great 
fluttering  cloud  of  darkness  on  the  gleaming  surface.  Now 
they  began  to  shoot  about  among  each  other  in  a  most 
hurried  manner,  as  regularly,  however,  as  men  and  women 
would  cut  figures  in  a  dance,  and  thus  making  one  of  the 
most  spirited  and  gleeful  impressions.  Then  they  would 
all  quiet  down  again,  and  ride  gracefully  on  the  gently 
moving  waters,  their  heads  drawn  closely  on  their  breasts, 
as  if  in  the  most  complete  repose. 

Like  the  Mallard,  the  Dusky  Duck  feeds  on  small  mol- 
lusks,  roots,  and  grain,  and  will  not  disdain  a  lizard  or  a 
mouse;  and,  like  the  Mallard,  it  is  particularly  a  fresh- water 
Duck,  though  it  is  not  infrequently  found  about  the  borders 
of  the  ocean. 


THE  DUSKY  DUCK.  131 

Never  shall  I  forget  my  childish  glee  on  finding  a  flock 
of  these  Ducks  just  hatched,  following  the  mother  in  the 
woods  near  a  wild  meadow.  They  were  a  dark  olive,  almost 
black  on  the  head  and  back.  The  old  Duck  seemed  quite 
tame,  and  the  little  ones  did  not  try  very  hard  to  escape. 
Filling  my  hat  with  them,  I  hurried  home,  but  was  soon 
obliged  to  hurry  back,  as  my  mother  did  not  approve  of  my 
enterprise. 

A  few  months  ago  (1883),  while  visiting  the  old  paternal 
farm,  I  was  again  diverted  by  a  flock  of  these  same  young 
Ducks.  The  female  rose  from  a  mud-hole  in  the  wild 
meadow  with  a  great  splutter;  and,  standing  still,  I  began 
to  look  about  me  for  the  young.  For  some  time  I  could 
see  nothing  of  them,  they  were  so  nearly  the  color  of  the 
mud  and  the  drabbled  grass.  By  and  by  my  eye  caught  one 
which  must  have  been  fully  ten  days  old,  sitting  perfectly 
motionless  in  the  water,  which  filled  a  cow's  track  in  the 
mud.  Looking  a  little  to  one  side  I  saw  two  more  snuggled 
together  in  a  like  dish  of  water,  then  another  and  another, 
and  still  another  —  all  sitting  so  motionless  that  I  do  not 
think  they  even  winked.  Thinking  that  I  had  looked  at 
them  long  enough  I  stepped  forward,  when,  two  more  start- 
ing up,  they  all  hurried  away  helter-skelter  into  the  bushes. 

The  Dusky  Duck  ranges  through  Eastern  North  America 
to  Labrador,  and,  breeding  more  or  less  throughout,  but 
more  especially  to  the  north,  is  strictly  an  American  species. 
The  nest,  built  on  the  ground,  generally  near  the  water, 
sometimes  in  a  tussock  of  grass,  sometimes  sunk  into  the 
moss,  or  even  placed  on  a  moss-covered  rock  or  on  the  top 
of  a  decayed  log,  is  composed  of  dried  grasses  and  various 
vegetable  substances,  the  edge  being  well  surrounded  with 
down  and  feathers  if  incubation  be  well  advanced,  and  so 
the  nest  complete,  thus  giving  it  a  peculiar,  dark  appearance. 


132  THE   SONG  SPARROW. 

The  eggs,  some  eight  in  number,  are  about  2.38  x  1.3V,  very 
nearly  the  size  and  shape  of  a  common  hen's  egg,  the 
surface  being  of  an  opaque  smoothness,  and  of  a  uniform 
brownish  tint,  sometimes,  indeed,  of  an  elegant  greenish,  or 
even  reddish  shade,  the  fresh  egg  seeming  fairly  translucent. 
Generally,  however,  the  eggs,  like  those  of  the  Ducks  in 
general,  are  much  soiled  and  disfigured  from  the  bird's 
entering  the  nest  directly  from  the  riled  water  and  the  mud. 

THE    SONG    SPARROW. 

The  sun  is  now  well  up,  and  the  thin  sheet  of  snow  is 
melting  rapidly.  There  is  such  a  mingling  of  spring 
warmth  and  winter  sunshine  as  makes  the  day  particularly 
bright  and  suggestive.  The  reflection  of  every  ray  of  the 
clearest  sun  by  the  clean  sheet  of  new  snow  so  intensifies 
the  light  that  it  seems  as  if  a  diffused  lightning  had  become 
fixed  —  as  if  the  very  atmosphere  were  transfigured.  Every 
breath  takes  in  a  reeking  moisture,  the  air  vibrates  on  the 
hills  as  in  summer  heat,  and  the  rippling  and  purling  of  the 
stream  is  hurried  and  full.  The  earth  will  come  out  of  this 
snow  as  from  a  warm  bath,  everything  freshened  and 
quickened  as  by  a  summer  rain.  All  along  the  flats  about 
the  creek,  from  the  clumps  of  bushes,  from  the  thickets, 
and  from  the  edges  of  the  forests,  come  the  loud  and  ring- 
ing notes  of  the  Song  Sparrow  (Melospiza  melodia).  Except 
the  creaking  melody  of  the  Horned  Lark,  heard  fully  a 
month  earlier,  or  possibly  the  simultaneous  warbling  note 
of  the  Bluebird,  this  is  our  first  noticeable  bird-song  of  the 
year.  On  the  most  disagreeable  days  of  late  February  or 
early  March,  when  the  air  has  that  peculiar  chill  caused 
by  the  slow  melting  of  snow  and  ice,  or  a  rain  is  falling 
barely  above  the  freezing  point,  the  clear,  strong  vibrations 
of  this  melody  are  as  cheerful  as  in  the  most  genial  days  of 


THE   SONG   SPARROW.  133 

spring.  They  sound  like  a  sudden  outburst  of  joy  in  the 
midst  of  the  universal  bleakness  of  a  winter's  day — like 
something  out  of  its  time  —  a  melodious  prophecy  of  the 
joys  of  spring  so  near  these  last  days  of  winter. 

We  may  sometimes  find  the  Song  Sparrow  in  a  sheltered 
place  here,  even  in  winter,  and  hear  him  lisp  a  faint  warble 
from  near  the  ground,  but  his  full  song  is  reserved  till  this 
approach  of  spring.  The  clear  strokes,  twitters,  and  trills  of 
this  song  are  especially  musical  and  inspiriting  on  this  bright, 
still  morning.  They  have  the  whole  vibrating  capacity  of 
the  atmosphere  to  themselves,  without  even  the  rustling  of 
a  leaf  or  the  humming  of  an  insect  to  counteract  them. 
Commencing  with  several  long  and  peculiarly  resonant 
notes  the  bird  continues  in  a  twittering  warble,  and  ends 
with  several  notes  longer  and  more  resonant  than  the  first, 
the  whole  being  in  a  tone  so  loud  and  penetrating  that  one 
cannot  but  marvel  at  the  capacity  of  those  tiny  lungs,  scarcely 
larger  than  a  small  bean.  But  the  vocal  apparatus  of 
birds,  and  of  song-birds  in  particular,  is  very  remarkable. 
The  larynx,  highly  complicated  in  structure,  is  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  trachea,  or  windpipe,  being  also  connected  with 
the  upper  part  or  fork  of  the  bronchial  tubes;  and  the 
muscles  connected  with  it,  only  one  or  two  pairs  in  ordinary 
birds,  in  song-birds,  are  no  less  than  five  pairs.  These  mus- 
cles may  change  the  relative  positions  of  the  cartilaginous 
rings  or  half-rings  connected  with  the  vocal  organ;  or  they 
may  lengthen  or  shorten  the  trachea,  thus  giving  the  effect 
of  tubes  of  different  lengths  in  a  pipe-organ,  or  they  may 
modify  the  tension  of  the  trilling  membrane  and  other 
membranes  of  the  vocal  organ  itself.  Also  the  arytenoid 
cartilages  at  the  upper  end  of  the  trachea  may  open  or  par- 
tially close  the  air  passage,  and  so  modify  the  sound  some- 
thing after  the  manner  of  the  knee-swell  of  a  common 


134  THE   SONG   SPARROW. 

parlor-organ.  All  these  vocal  contrivances  are  greatly 
aided  again  by  the  air-cavities  and  passages  pervading  the 
interior  of  the  body,  the  muscles  and  the  bones.  The 
delightful  qualities  of  tone,  and  the  variations  of  melody 
which  are  thus  made  possible  to  the  sylvan  songster,  must 
fall  on  the  ear  of  a  genuine  lover  of  music  to  be  fully 
appreciated.  Truly  nature  has  concentrated  the  energy  of 
the  song-bird  in  the  vocal  powers  as  well  as  that  of  birds  in 
general  in  the  wing.  Song,  that  high  endowment  of  a  portion 
only  of  the  human  race,  is  the  peculiar  and  fascinating  gift  of 
certain  birds,  thus  placing  them  not  only  above  all  others 
of  their  kind,  but  above  all  the  rest  of  animated  nature. 

How  often  throughout  the  season  have  I  felt  the  cheering 
influence  of  the  melody  of  a  Song  Sparrow  as  it  sang  regu- 
larly in  the  apple-trees  near  my  study-window!  Many  a 
performance  by  the  human  voice  have  I  heard,  far  less  sig- 
nificant and  entertaining  than  this  spirited  pastoral.  The 
song  of  this  species  varies  greatly  in  different  individuals, 
and  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  it  varied  greatly  in 
different  and  distant  localities.  On  going  into  the  higher 
regions  of  our  Great  Lakes,  for  instance,  I  have  suspected 
the  melody  of  the  Song  Sparrow  to  be  that  of  some  other 
species,  until  I  had  thoroughly  assured  myself.  Ordinarily, 
the  song  has  a  peculiar,  vibrating  tone,  making  one  think  of 
a  tremulous  reed  or  chord;  but  often  the  more  prolonged 
notes  are  decidedly  tintinnabulary,  as  if  the  bird  carried  a 
tiny  bell  in  its  throat,  and  struck  off  its  tones  in  the  most 
delicate  and  pleasing  manner.  The  order,  again,  of  the 
long  notes  and  the  short  ones  in  the  melody  may  be  end- 
lessly varied.  Well,  indeed,  has  this  interesting  species 
been  called  the  Song  Sparrow. 

In  autumn,  even,  especially  in  the  balmy  days  of  Indian 
Summer,  one  may  hear  its  lay — not  so  loud  and  penetrat- 


THE   SONG  SPARROW.  135 

ing  as  in  spring,  indeed,  but  in  a  subdued  and  tender  modu- 
lation, peculiar  to  the  time  of  year.  One  of  our  commonest 
birds,  found  anywhere  from  the  door-yard  to  the  forest, 
rather  partial,  however,  to  thickets,  the  Song  Sparrow  is 
the  useful  ally  of  man  against  the  insect-tribes,  and  a 
happy  minstrel  to  cheer  him  in  his  toils. 

Already  in  April  this  bird  builds  its  first  nest,  a  second 
following  as  soon  as  possible,  and  perhaps  a  third.  Thus 
the  breeding  season  continues  to  the  end  of  summer.  I 
have  seen  the  eggs  fresh  the  last  days  of  August,  and  the 
young  in  the  nest  in  September.  The  nest  is  usually  on  the 
ground,  and  well  sheltered  by  some  projecting  object  —  a 
bush,  a  tussock  of  grass,  a  root,  or  a  hummock  of  earth; 
but  it  may  be  in  a  bush,  or  in  a  hedge,  or  even  in  a  broken 
dish.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  season  the  nests  are  much  more 
frequently  up  from  the  ground  —  in  a  hedge  or  in  a  bush  — 
than  in  the  early  spring,  perhaps  because  the  birds  thus 
seek  to  escape  the  disturbances  of  cultivation  —  haying, 
harvesting,  and  the  grazing  herds  of  the  pasture.  The 
nest  is  composed  for  the  most  part  of  dried  grasses,  and  is 
often  lined  with  horse-hair.  The  eggs,  from  .77X.55- 
.85  X  -60,  vary  greatly  in  color  and  in  marking.  The  ground- 
color is  a  greenish,  or  bluish,  or  grayish-white.  The  mark- 
ing* generally  very  thick  and  heavy,  is  of  some  shade  of 
brown,  traced  with  lilac.  There  is  sometimes  a  single  egg 
in  a  set,  of  a  delicate  green,  and  almost  spotless.  I  know 
of  no  eggs  which  vary  so  greatly  in  color. 

I  do  not  so  frequently  find  the  Cow  Blackbird's  eggs  in 
this  nest  as  in  that  of  other  small  birds  in  general. 
The  Song  Sparrow  is  quite  excitable  when  its  nest  is  dis- 
turbed, and  emits  a  peculiar  chimp,  chimp,  unlike  the  alarm 
note  of  any  other  bird,  yet  it  has  sometimes  the  chip  peculiar 
to  other  Sparrows. 


136  THE  PURPLE  FINCH. 

This  species,  composed  of  some  half-dozen  varieties, 
covers  North  America.  Our  eastern  variety  (Melospiza 
melodia),  wintering  from  Southern  New  England  and  the 
Middle  States  southward,  and  extending  north  to  the  lati- 
tude of  Nova  Scotia,  is  some  six  inches  or  more  in  length, 
and  has  the  marking  and  color  common  to  all  our  Spar- 
rows. It  is  distinguishable  to  me,  however,  by  its  general 
reddish  tinge  of  brown,  especially  by  its  long  crown  tail, 
by  the  heavy  dark  spots  on  its  dull  white  breast,  and  more 
especially  by  the  heavy  dark  streaks  from  the  base  of  its 
bill  down  its  cheeks  and  neck. 

Belonging  to  the  same  genus  with  the  Song  and  Swamp 
Sparrows,  is  Lincoln's  Sparrow  (Melospiza  lincolnO).  Some 
5.50  long,  it  has  the  colors  and  markings  of  the  Sparrows  in 
general  above ;  throat  and  belly  white,  with  a  broad,  brownish- 
yellow  band  across  the  breast,  the  throat,  breast  and  sides 
being  specked  and  spotted  with  brown  and  black.  In  habit, 
nidification,  etc.,  this  bird  is  very  similar  to  the  Song  Sparrow. 
It  is  found  in  the  migrations  throughout  North  America,  being 
rare  to  the  eastward,  but  abundant  in  the  west  and  north- 
west. Audubon  found  it  breeding  in  Labrador,  and  its 
nests  are  found  in  great  abundance  about  Great  Slave  Lake 
and  Yukon  River.  Mr.  Bruce  saw  it  in  a  thicket  by  Lake 
Ontario,  on  the  17th  of  May  (1880),  in  company  with  the 
White-crowned  and  White-throated  Sparrows. 

THE    PURPLE    FINCH. 

As  I  return  to  the  village  about  noon  I  am  greeted  by  the 
Purple  Finch  (Carpodacus  purpureus),  which  has  already 
been  here  in  full  song  for  a  week.  The  size  and  general 
shape  of  one  of  the  larger  Sparrows,  its  head  is  a  dark 
crimson;  rump,  breast  and  under  parts  of  the  same,  but 
much  lighter,  the  latter  becoming  white  underneath; 


THE  PURPLE  FINCH.  137 

feathers  of  the  back  and  the  wing  coverts,  deep  dusky,  edged 
with  crimson;  wing  and  tail-feathers,  dusky-black,  edged 
with  light-brown.  The  female,  strongly  resembled  by  the 
male  for  the  first  two  years  or  more,  is  nearly  the  color  of 
a  Song  Sparrow.  From  early  spring  till  late  summer  this 
is  one  of  our  most  delightful  songsters.  Lifting  itself  up 
to  full  length  with  elevated  crest,  its  voluble  rich  tones  — 
strongly  resembling  those  of  the  Warbling  Vireo,  only 
more  rapid  and  spirited  —  fairly  gurgle  in  its  throat  to  the 
very  end  of  the  lengthy  strain.  In  the  sunny  days  of  the 
mating  season  it  has  quite  a  variety  of  short,  spirited  notes, 
such  as  pick-wee,  wee-ree,  wee-ree-ee.  Then,  too,  it  launches 
into  the  air,  and  with  crown-feathers  erect,  tail  partially 
thrown  up,  and  a  vibrating  of  wings  rather  than  real  flight, 
gives  its  finest  melody. 

With  much  demonstration  does  the  male  win  his  plain 
mate.  Never  shall  I  forget  how  I  once  saw  him  perform  on 
a  fence-rail  between  me  and  the  setting  sun.  Straightening 
up  to  full  length  in  front  of  his  spouse,  his  wings  vibrating 
almost  like  those  of  a  Humming-bird,  his  crimson  crest  all 
aflame  in  the  slanting  rays  of  rosy  light,  he  poured  forth 
his  sweetest  warble. 

The  following  note  from  Mr.  Eugene  Ringueberg,  of 
Lockport,  is  in  place  here:  "While  out  in  a  grove  of  ever- 
greens near  the  house  this  morning  (April  30th),  I  saw  two 
male  Purple  Finches  chasing  a  female  in  and  out  among 
the  trees.  She  flew  around  for  three  or  four  minutes,  only 
alighting  once  in  a  while  to  rest,  closely  pursued  by  the 
males,  singing  as  hard  as  they  could  nearly  all  the  time. 
At  length,  however,  she  lit  on  the  branch  of  a  beech-tree, 
and  then  one  of  her  suitors  perched  on  -a  branch  within  a 
foot  of  her  on  one  side,  and  the  other  at  about  the  same 
distance  on  the  other  side.  Immediately  a  contest  of  song 


138  THE  PURPLE  FINCH. 

commenced.  Each  male  faced  the  female  with  neck  out- 
stretched and  crest  raised  to  its  fullest  dimensions,  and 
leaned  forward  far  enough  to  show  conspicuously  its  bright 
rump,  and  to  aid  in  this  display,  spread  both  wings  and 
tail  to  the  widest  extent;  and  moving,  or  more  properly 
dancing,  up  and  down,  poured  forth  such  a  volume  of  song 
as  I  did  not  think  them  capable  of  producing.  They  kept 
up  this  brilliant  display  of  both  song  and  plumage  for  over 
a  minute,  without  one  second's  cessation,  continually  mov- 
ing the  head  and  body  from  side  to  side,  and  giving  a 
tremulous,  vibratory  movement  to  the  wings.  Suddenly 
they  stopped,  and  after  a  few  seconds  of  restless  chirping, 
one  male  flew  away,  and  in  a  short  time  the  other  followed, 
and  then  the  female  flew  after  the  latter." 

From  the  middle  of  May  onward  into  June  you  may  find 
the  nest  of  the  Purple  Finch  almost  invariably  in  the  thick 
part  of  a  small  evergreen,  and  near  the  trunk,  most  com- 
monly in  the  front  yard,  or  in  an  evergreen  hedge  set  for  a 
wind-brake;  for  though  rather  shy  on  the  whole,  this  species 
seeks  the  society  of  man.  The  nest  is  framed  with  small 
twigs,  fine  rootlets  and  some  dried  grass,  ornamented,  per- 
haps, with  a  few  dried  leaves,  bunches  of  moss,  or  bits  of 
vegetable  down;  it  is  lined  with  the  finest  of  dried  grasses 
and  rootlets,  or  more  commonly  with  hair  and  fine  vege- 
table fibres.  The  eggs,  generally  four,  some  .75  x  -55,  are 
a  delicate  light-green,  finely  specked  with  black,  or  more 
coarsely  spotted  with  brown.  The  Purple  Finch  breeds  here 
quite  commonly.  Wintering  sparingly  in  Massachu- 
setts and  the  more  southern  parts  of  New  York,  but  abund- 
antly in  the  Southern  States,  it  comes  to  us  in  March, 
reaching  Labrador  in  the  north  and  the  Pacific  in  the  west, 
and  goes  southward  late  in  the  migratory  season.  Stearns, 
therefore,  very  properly  assigns  it  to  the  "  Canadian  and 


THE  PURPLE  FINCH.  139 

Alleghanian  Fauna,  the  latter  being  in  fact  its  center  of 
abundance  in  the  breeding  season,  at  which  time  the  bird 
is  probably  nowhere  more  numerous  than  in  Massachusetts." 
In  no  place  have  I  ever  found  it  so  abundant  as  in  Nova 
Scotia. 

Cassin's  Purple  Finch  and  the  Crimson-fronted  are 
closely-allied  western  varieties,  belonging  to  the  Avi-fauna 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

The  Purple  Finch  has  the  extreme  robustness  or  thick- 
ness of  bill  belonging  to  its  tribe.  It  is,  however,  not 
merely  a  seed-eating  bird,  but  has  justly  awakened  no 
small  prejudice  in  the  gardener,  on  account  of  its  partiality 
for  the  tender  filaments  and  fat  anthers  of  fruit-blossoms. 
But  even  if  fruit-blossoms  were  not  more  numerous  than  is 
necessary,  this  bird's  bright  plumage  and  wonderful  song 
might  well  atone  for  the  little  mischief  it  may  do. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

EARLY    APRIL    AND    THE    PHCEBE. 

IN  no  field  of  thought  does  the  law  of  the  association  of 
ideas  work  more  potently  than  in  the  domain  of  nature. 
Each  season  has  its  voices,  its  temperatures,  and  its  moods 
of  earth  and  sky.  Along  with  the  burning  days  of  harvest 
we  associate  the  drowsy  hum  of  the  Cicada;  with  the  more 
temperate  days,  the  fading  fields  and  the  cool  evenings  of 
late  summer  —  the  shrilling  of  crickets,  locusts  and  grass- 
hoppers; with  the  driving  snows  of  winter,  clouds  of  Snow 
Buntings;  with  the  wooing,  sunny  days  of  late  March  and 
early  April,  the  homely  but  significant  voice  of  the  Phoebe 
(Sayornis  fuscus),  one  of  our  welcome  birds  of  early  spring. 
While  yet  the  ground  is  crisp  from  the  frosts  of  the  previ- 
ous night,  and  the  lingering  snow-drifts  about,  the  fence- 
corners  give  back  the  unclouded  rays  of  the  morning  sun  in 
countless  scintillations,  as  the  spirited  note  of  the  Robin, 
the  amorous  warble  of  the  Bluebird,  the  plaintive  melody 
of  the  Meadow  Lark,  and  the  ringing  notes  of  the  Song  Spar- 
row mingle  with  the  sound  of  the  axe  of  the  woodman  on 
the  hill,  this  newly  arrived  bird  mounts  the  fence,  the  corn- 
bin,  or  the  ridge  of  the  barn,  and  with  frequent  jerks  of  the 
tail  emits,  at  short  intervals,  his  rather  harsh,  but  by  no 
means  unpleasing,  pe-wee.  This  is  Phoebe's  very  best  song. 
For  more  ordinary  purposes,  however,  a  chip  or  a  whit  may 
suffice.  After  a  few  weeks,  the  cheerful  note  which 


•  THE  PHCEBE.  141 

announced  her  arrival  ceases,  scarcely  to  be  heard  again 
during  her  stay.  Mr.  Burroughs  says  of  this  note:  "At 
agreeable  intervals  in  her  lay,  she  describes  a  circle  or  an 
ellipse  in  the  air,  ostensibly  prospecting  for  insects,  but 
really,  I  suspect,  as  an  artistic  flourish,  thrown  in  to  make 
up  in  some  way  for  the  deficiency  of  her  musical  perform- 
ance." All  pretty  fancies  aside,  Phcebe  is,  without  doubt,  a 
Flycatcher  in  earnest.  Mark  her  as  she  describes  her  curve 
from  the  fence-stake,  the  apple-tree,  or  the  willow  which 
overhangs  the  brook,  or  hovers  amidst  a  cloud  of  gnats  or 
midges,  and  be  assured  that  the  snapping  of  the  bill  is  no 
mere  pretense.  With  head  large,  and  legs  weak,  with 
colors  exceedingly  plain,  and  a  flight  altogether  ordinary, 
this  bird  appeals  as  little  to  the  eye  as  to  the  ear.  In  short, 
Phcebe  is  in  every  point  of  view  a  homely  bird;  and  yet,  of 
all  the  feathered  tribes,  none  has  a  larger  or  tenderer  place 
in  our  sympathies.  What  makes  her  so  beloved  ?  Just 
that  which  endears  certain  plain  and  unpretending  people 
to  our  hearts;  or,  that  supports  the  old  proverb,  " handsome 
is  that  handsome  does;"  or,  in  other  words,  an  affectionate 
kindliness  and  confidence,  accompanied  by  a  useful  life, 
greatly  transcends  any  mere  external  accident  of  personal 
beauty  or  accomplishment.  The  Phcebe  has  a  better  repu- 
tation than  either  Wren  or  Robin,  approaches  us  with  even 
more  confidence  than  the  Bluebird,  can  vie  with  the  Swal- 
lows in  her  destruction  of  noxious  insects,  in  the  self-sacri- 
fice of  her  domestic  cares  is  outdone  by  none,  and  is  the 
sure  herald  of  the  bright  and  happy  days  of  spring.  On 
the  other  hand,  no  pilfering  or  cruel  habits  or  faults  of  any 
kind  detract  from  her  many  virtues.  In  moral  suggestive- 
ness,  the  history  of  such  a  life  is  more  potent  than  a 
fable,  and  welcome  as  the  beauty  and  fragrance  of  the 
flowers.  Then  cordially  greet  this  summer  resident,  more 


142  THE  PHCEBE. 

disposed  to  self-domestication  than  any.  other  bird  of  our 
country. 

As  an  architect,  Phoebe  is  by  no  means  uniform 
in  her  method.  Though  often  constructing  a  mere 
mud-hut,  strengthened  by  any  fibrous  or  strawy  mate- 
rial, placed  on  a  projection  under  the  piazza,  on 
a  beam  in  the  sheds,  or  on  the  under  structure  of 
a  bridge,  she  may  build  it  almost  wholly  of  shreds  of  bark, 
of  fine  rootlets,  lichens,  and  grasses,  or  of  mosses,  using 
little  or  no  mud.  Two  nests  now  before  me  are  both  curi- 
ous and  beautiful.  The  one  found  under  a  bridge  is 
double,  every  part  being  new.  It  is  built  of  lichens,  moss, 
dried  grass,  and  very  fine  rootlets,  and  lined  with  white 
silken  fibres  and  horse-hair,  the  bulk  containing  a  few 
pellets  of  mud  as  a  cement.  The  apartment  of  this  double 
nest,  which  was  less  finished  and  contained  no  eggs,  was 
evidently  built  first,  as  the  pellets  of  mud  used  in  cement- 
ing the  outside  of  the  other  which  was  closely  joined  to  it, 
extend  over  its  edge  and  into  the  nearer  side  of  the  interior. 
The  more  highly  finished  nest  contained  five  fresh  eggs,  of 
the  usual  size,  some  .75  x  -50  inch,  and  pure  white,  and 
underneath  these  was  a  Cow  Blackbird's  egg,  built  out  after 
the  manner  of  some  of  the  smaller  birds. 

What  could  have  been  the  occasion  of  this  double  nest? 
As  the  unoccupied  nest  was  built  first,  and  was  a  little 
sidling,  I  infer  that  the  bird  had  time  to  build  in  addition  a 
perfectly  upright  one,  which  was  more  satisfactory,  and 
therefore  more  highly  finished.  (These  twin  nests  are  a 
fine  brown  without  and  a  delicate  gray  within.)  Mr.  Minot 
mentions  a  pair,  which,  being  late  in  building,  "proceeded 
to  construct,  side  by  side  in  a  shed,  two  nests,  which  were 
finished  at  the  same  time.  While  the  male  fed  the  young 
of  the  first  brood  in  one  nest,  the  female  laid  the  eggs  of  a 


'-THE  PHCEBE.  143 

second  brood  in  the  other."  Possibly  the  double  nest  in  my 
possession,  which,  by  the  way,  was  also  rather  late,  had  it 
remained  undisturbed,  might  have  disclosed  the  same 
purpose.  In  this,  as  in  many  other  cases  of  bird  archi- 
tecture, it  would  seem  that  the  bird  had  exercised  some- 
thing of  reason,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  impulses  of 
instinct. 

The  other  nest  in  my  possession  was  found  in  the  cellar 
of  an  unoccupied  house,  and  is  composed  almost  entirely 
of  beautiful  green  mosses,  without  any  perceptible  use  of 
mud,  and  is  also  lined  with  white  silken  fibres  and  horse- 
hair—  a  most  beautiful  object,  especially  as  ornamented 
with  its  complement  of  clear  white  eggs!  Such  nests  are 
sometimes  built  on  cliffs  of  rock,  according  to  the  original 
habits  of  the  bird,  and  thus  appear  as  if  they  "grew" 
there  —  a  beautiful  product  of  nature.  This  is  a  bird  of 
the  United  States,  rare  in  Northern  New  England  and  so 
belonging  to  the  Alleghanian  Fauna,  wintering  in  the 
Southern  States,  and  raising  sometimes  as  many  as  three 
broods  in  a  season  and  in  the  same  nest,  which  is  ready  for 
the  first  occupation  some  time  in  April. 

It  is  well  understood  that  this  species  returns  to  the  same 
place  for  nidification  for  years  in  succession.  Audubon 
believed  that  the  young  of  the  previous  year  returned,  in 
some  cases,  with  the  parents,  and  thus  started  a  sort  of 
colony. 

Phcebe  is  6.50  or  upward  in  length,  dark-olive  above, 
still  darker  on  the  crown;  under  parts  white  or  tinged 
with  yellow;  sides,  and  sometimes  the  breast,  shaded  with 
the  dark  color  of  the  upper  parts.  The  ring  around  the 
eye,  the  outer  webbing  of  the  wing  and  some  of  the  tail- 
feathers  are  tinged  with  greenish-white.  Bill  entirely 
black. 


144  THE    WOOD  DUCK. 

THE    WOOD    DUCK. 

Along  the  line  between  Orleans  and  Genesee  counties  is 
Tonawanda  Swamp,  extending  many  miles  east  and  west, 
and  giving  rise  to  a  number  of  beautiful  streams.  Here 
are  large  tracts  of  wood-land,  forests  of  cedar  and  larch, 
immense  groves  of  maples,  ashes,  elms,  etc.,  standing  in  the 
water  a  great  part  of  the  year,  as  well  as  extensive  tracts 
of  mere  shrubby  growth,  and  open  marshes,  moss-bogs, 
etc.  Here  are  many  ponds  and  sluggish  streams  wind- 
ing their  way  so  quietly  through  the  still  forests  that  their 
glassy  surface  betrays  no  current  until  a  boat  is  launched 
upon  them.  Being  quartered  with  a  hospitable  family  in 
the  vicinity,  I  am  spending  the  first  days  of  April  in  these 
interesting  haunts.  Having  paddled  a  light  canoe  for 
several  miles  along  the  meandering  water-course,  I  build 
me  a  booth  against  the  trunk  of  a  large  elm  standing  on  a 
point  where  several  channels  meet.  Seating  myself,  gun  in 
hand,  I  have  a  commanding  view  along  the  channels  for 
some  distance.  Presently  a  pair  of  Wood  Ducks  (Aix 
sponsa]  appear.  Evidently  they  are  about  to  alight,  but  will 
first  reconnoiter  the  place.  They  cross  the  streams  several 
times,  making  short  circuits  through  the  woods.  How 
noiselessly  they  glide  through  the  tree-tops,  the  male  lead- 
ing, and  the  female  following  closely  after.  Satisfied  as  to 
the  quiet  of  the  spot,  they  drop  gracefully  into  the  wide, 
glassy  sheet  of  water  where  the  channels  meet.  O,  the 
elegant  figure  and  brilliant  colors  of  the  male,  as  he  displays 
himself  in  front  of  the  female!  The  stretching  and  curv- 
ing of  the  neck,  and  the  graceful  elevating  of  the  crest  are 
indescribable.  How  he  cuts  and  darts  around  his  mate 
and  most  tenderly  caresses  her!  This  is  the  supreme 
moment  of  his  rare  elegance  and  beauty.  He  also  utters  a 
peculiar  cackling  sound.  Some  20  inches  in  length,  he  is 


THE    WOOD  DUCK.  145 

about  half  way  in  size  between  the  Teal  and  the  Mallard; 
the  short  and  well-shaped  bill  is  finely  shaded  with  yellow, 
carmine,  and  green;  the  top  of  the  head,  and  space  between 
the  eye  and  bill,  dark,  glossy  green;  the  long  crest,  dark 
green  and  deep  bronze-purple,  elegantly  edged  and  streaked 
with  white;  cheeks  and  sides  of  the  neck,  deep  purplish- 
brown,  almost  black;  arches  above  the  eyes,  throat  and 
fore-neck,  with  points  extending  across  the  cheeks  and  sides 
of  the  neck,  pure  white;  breast  light  purplish-brown,  with 
triangular  white  spots,  and  shading  into  bronze-green  on 
the  upper  back;  wing  blue,  black,  and  violet,  edged  with 
white;  feathers  at  the  shoulder  of  the  wing  white,  edged 
with  black;  tail  greenish-black,  with  rich  purplish-brown 
on  each  side  of  the  base;  femoral  and  side-feathers,  gray- 
ish-yellow, delicately  penciled  with  black,  and  tipped  with 
white  and  black  bands;  under  parts,  white.  He  is  decidedly 
the  most  beautiful  bird  of  our  waters. 

The  female  is  a  little  smaller  than  the  male,  has  the  crest 
much  smaller,  and  is  altogether  plainer  in  color;  the  upper 
parts  being  generally  grayish  or  brownish,  tinged  and  glossed 
with  green  and  purple;  space  around  the  eyes,  throat,  and 
under  parts,  white;  breast  similar  to  that  of  the  male  in 
marking,  but  much  plainer  in  color. 

Having  performed  their  amorous  caresses,  the  happy  pair 
spring  out  of  the  water  on  wing  and  alight  in  the  top  of  a 
tall  tree,  perching  as  readily  as  any  land-bird,  and  thus 
differing  widely  from  most  others  of  their  kind.  Here 
they  are  still  beautiful,  but  not  so  charming  as  on  the 
water. 

The  Wood  Duck  breeds  here,  as  it  does  in  similar  retreats 

throughout    the    Union;    not    on    the    ground,     however, 

after  the  usual  manner  of  Ducks,  but  in  the  ends  of  large 

hollow  limbs  which  have  been  broken  off,  the  nest  being 

10 


146  THE    WOOD  DUCK. 

placed  sometimes  six  or  ten  feet  in,  and  in  cavities  in  the 
bodies  of  trees.  The  nest  is  made  of  various  dried  vege- 
table matter,  and  is  lined  with  feathers  and  down.  The  eggs, 
anywhere  from  a  half-dozen  to  fifteen,  are  smooth,  about 
1.95  X  1.50,  nearly  elliptical,  of  a  light  yellowish-white,  some- 
times tinged  with  green. 

When  the  female  begins  to  sit  the  male  leaves  her,  after 
the  usual  manner  of  the  Ducks,  and  joins  other  males. 

When  the  young  are  about  twenty-four  hours  old,  if  the 
limb  containing  the  nest  be  over  the  water,  they  may  find 
their  way  severally  to  the  edge,  and  dropping  into  their 
favorite  element,  begin  life's  perilous  career.  If  the  nest  be 
a  little  distant  from  the  water,  as  is  generally  the  case,  the 
mother  may  seize  them  by  the  wing  or  neck,  and  con- 
vey them  to  it,  or,  landing  them  thus  on  the  ground,  may 
lead  them  thither  in  a  flock.  More  commonly,  however, 
the  mother  having  thoroughly  reconnoitered  the  place  for 
some  time,  and  now  uttering  her  soft  cooing  call  at  the 
door-way,  the  little  ones  scramble  up  from  the  nest  with  the 
aid  of  their  sharp  toe-nails,  and  huddle  around  the  mother 
a  few  minutes.  The  mother,  now  descending  to  the  ground, 
calls  again  to  the  young,  and  they  drop  one  by  one  on  to 
the  soft  moss  or  dried  leaves,  their  tiny  bodies  so  enveloped 
in  long  down,  falling  scarcely  harder  than  a  leaf  or  a 
feather.  Again  they  huddle  around  the  mother-bird;  and, 
the  distance  of  the  nest  from  the  water  being  sometimes  as 
much  as  sixty  or  seventy  rods,  and  generally  more  or  less 
on  an  elevation,  they  need  the  maternal  guidance  to  their 
favorite  element. 

Here,  on  such  shallow  ponds  and  edges  of  creeks  and 
lakes  as  abound  in  tender  vegetable  growths,  amidst  many 
perils,  she  watches  over  them  most  assiduously,  aiding  them 
in  procuring  their  food  of  aquatic  insects,  tender  shoots  of 


THE  PEREGRINE  FALCON.  147 

water  plants,  small  mollusks,  and  tadpoles.  When  fully 
grown  they  delight  in  beech-nuts,  acorns,  and  such  berries 
as  may  be  found  in  their  locality. 

These  elegant  birds,  so  delicious  for  the  table,  and 
so  easily  domesticated,  spend  their  winters  on  the 
fresh  waters  of  the  more  southern  portion  of  the 
Union.  Indeed,  they  are  always  strictly  fresh-water  ducks, 
and  may  sometimes  be  found  in  large  flocks  during  fall  and 
winter.  Though  extending  somewhat  farther  north,  this 
Duck  is  particularly  a  bird  of  the  United  States,  breeding 
very  commonly  in  all  suitable  places,  and  hence  is  often 
called  the  Summer  Duck. 

THE    PEREGRINE    FALCON. 

Scarcely  have  the  elegant  pair  of  Wood  Ducks  disap- 
peared, when  there  passed  overhead  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished birds  in  the  world  —  the  Peregrine  Falcon,  or 
Duck  Hawk  (Falco  communis).  For  a  moment  he  seemed 
to  be  "stooping"  upon  some  object  of  prey,  then,  as  if 
disappointed,  rose  for  a  short  distance  in  a  short  spiral  curve 
and  made  off.  As  he  swept  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow  past 
me,  I  could  hear  the  vibrating  hum  of  his  pinions;  and 
when  he  rose,  he  pursued  his  abruptly-curved  pathway  with 
a  swift,  nervous  sailing,  wholly  unlike  the  slow  and  majestic 
sweep  of  the  Buzzards.  Though  not  numerous  anywhere, 
this  bird  has  very  nearly  or  quite  the  wide  world  as  its 
range.  It  is  well  known  all  along  the  Atlantic  Coast,  and  is 
more  or  less  common  along  the  great  rivers  of  the  interior, 
in  the  mountainous  regions  of  which  it  breeds,  the  nest, 
like  that  of  the  Golden  Eagle,  being  placed  on  ledges  of 
projecting  rock  on  some  lofty  precipice.  Professor  S.  S. 
Haldeman  was  the  first  to  note  its  breeding  in  the  United 
States,  discovering  the  site  of  its  nest  in  the  mountain- 


148  THE  PEREGRINE  FALCON. 

cliffs  along  the  Susquehanna,  near  Columbia,  Pennsylvania. 
Afterwards  Mr.  Allen  gave  a  most  satisfactory  account  of 
its  nesting  in  Mt.  Tom,  on  the  Connecticut,  in  Massachu- 
setts. Very  recently  I  obtained  from  the  observations  of 
Professor  Charles  Linden,  of  Buffalo,  some  very  interesting 
notes  as  to  its  breeding  on  the  Mississippi,  about  sixty  miles 
north  of  Cairo,  Illinois.  A  vertical  out-crop  of  Devonian 
strata,  some  200  feet  high  and  about  a  mile  from  the  river, 
contained  two  nests  of  this  species,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  apart  and  near  its  crest.  The  nests  were  on  a  shelv- 
ing of  the  rocks,  and  the  limy  droppings  of  the  birds  could 
be  plainly  seen  for  many  feet  adown  cliff.  The  birds  were 
almost  constantly  in  sight,  and  the  place  afforded  an  excel- 
lent study  of  their  habits.  It  being  a  little  after  the  middle 
of  April  (1869),  the  wild  Ducks  were  still  abundant  in  the 
shallow  pools  of  the  tall  forests  between  the  cliff  and  the 
river.  The  Wood  Ducks  were  there  in  almost  countless 
numbers.  Blue-winged  Teal  and  Widgeon  were  common, 
while  a  few  Mallards  and  Shovellers  still  lingered.  Here 
the  Duck  Hawk,  perched  on  a  tall,  leafless  tree  well  up  the 
mountain  side,  kept  watch  for  his  quarry,  many  a  time 
swooping  with  the  swiftness  of  an  arrow  and  with  the 
most  unerring  aim  at  some  choice  individual  of  the  crowd. 
Thus  he  deserves  to  be  compared  to  "a  feathered  arrow 
traversing  the  air  with  a  rapidity  of  thought,  a  living  and 
winged  instrument  of  death  !" 

Sometimes  a  passing  Pigeon  lured  him,  or  a  Wilson's 
Snipe,  of  which  there  were  plenty  here  at  this  time. 

Generally  the  Duck  Hawk  contrives  little  or  nothing  for 
a  nest,  laying  its  eggs  almost  on  the  bare  rock  or  clay;  and 
thus  the  female  sits  closely,  scrambling  to  the  edge  of  the 
precipice,  and  launching  into  the  dizzy  ravine  beneath  only 
when  closely  crowded  by  the  hunter.  It  has  been  related 


THE  PEREGRINE  FALCON.  149 

on  the  best  authority,  however,  that  it  sometimes  constructs 
a  bulky  nest  of  sticks  and  other  coarse  materials. 

In  the  timber  lands  along  the  Neosho  River,  Kansas,  Mr. 
N.  S.  Goss  found  these  birds  breeding  in  trees.  In  the  first 
instance,  February,  1875,  "the  nest,"  he  says,  "was  in  a 
large  sycamore,  about  fifty  feet  from  the  ground,  in  a 
trough-like  cavity  formed  by  the  breaking  off  of  a  hollow 
limb  near  the  body  of  the  tree."  He  continues:  "  I  watched 
the  pair  closely,  with  the  view  of  securing  both  the  birds 
and  their  eggs.  March  27th  I  became  satisfied  that  the  birds 
were  sitting,  and  I  shot  the  female,  but  was  unable  to  get 
near  enough  to  shoot  the  male.  The  next  morning  I  hired  a 
young  man  to  climb  the  tree,  who  found  three  fresh  eggs, 
laid  on  the  fine,  soft,  rotten  wood  in  a  hollow  worked  out  of 
the  same  to  fit  the  body.  There  was  no  other  material  or 
lining,  except  a  few  feathers  and  down  mixed  with  the 
decayed  wood. 

"  March  17, 1876,"  he  adds,  "  I  found  a  pair  nesting  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river  from  the  above-described  nest,  in 
a  cotton-wood,  at  least  sixty  feet  from  the  ground,  the  birds 
entering  a  knot-hole  in  the  tree,  apparently  not  over  five 
or  six  inches  in  diameter." 

Thus  we  see  that  along  the  rivers  in  prairie  lands,  where 
mountains  are  wanting,  the  Duck  Hawk,  wholly  apart  from 
its  usual  habit,  nests  in  tall  trees,  appropriating  something 
like  a  cavity  The  eggs  three  or  four,  2.20-2.32  x  1.65- 
1.71,  are  grayish  ocher  or  chocolate-brown,  dotted,  spotted, 
and  blotched  with  reddish-brown,  sometimes  continuously 
colored  with  the  same  either  about  the  large  or  small  end. 

"The  flight  of  this  bird,"  says  Audubon,  "  is  astonishingly 
rapid.  It  is  scarcely  ever  seen  sailing,  unless  after  being 
disappointed  in  its  attempts  to  secure  the  prey  which  it  has 
been  pursuing,  and  even  at  such  times  it  merely  rises  with 


150  THE  PEREGRINE  FALCON. 

a  broad,  spiral  circuit,  to  attain  a  sufficient  elevation  to 
enable  it  to  reconnoiter  a  certain  space  below.  It  then 
emits  a  cry  much  resembling  that  of  the  Sparrow  Hawk, 
but  greatly  louder,  like  that  of  the  European  Kestrel,  and 
flies  off  quickly  in  quest  of  plunder.  The  search  is  often 
performed  with  a  flight  resembling  that  of  the  tame  Pigeon, 
until  perceiving  an  object,  it  redoubles  its  flappings,  and 
pursues  the  fugitive  with  a  rapidity  scarcely  to  be  conceived. 
Its  turnings,  windings  and  cuttings  through  the  air  are  now 
surprising.  It  follows  and  nears  the  timorous  quarry  at 
every  turn  and  back-cutting  which  the  latter  attempts. 
Arrived  within  a  few  feet  of  the  prey,  the  Falcon  is  seen 
protruding  his  powerful  legs  and  talons  to  their  full  stretch. 
His  wings  are  for  a  moment  almost  closed;  the  next  instant 
he  grapples  the  prize,  which,  if  too  weighty  to  be  carried  off 
directly,  he  forces  obliquely  toward  the  ground,  sometimes 
a  hundred  yards  from  where  it  was  seized,  to  kill  it  and 
devour  it  on  the  spot.  Should  this  happen  over  a  large 
extent  of  water,  the  Falcon  drops  his  prey  and  sets  off  in 
quest  of  another.  On  the  contrary,  should  it  not  prove  too 
heavy,  the  exulting  bird  carries  it  off  to  a  sequestered  and 
secure  place.  He  pursues  the  smaller  Ducks,  Water-hens, 
and  other  swimming  birds,  and  if  they  are  not  quick  in 
diving,  seizes  them,  and  rises  with  them  from  the  water.  I 
have  seen  this  Hawk  come  at  the  report  of  a  gun  and  carry 
off  a  Teal,  not  thirty  steps  distant  from  the  sportsman  who 
had  killed  it,  with  a  daring  assurance  as  surprising  as  unex- 
pected. This  conduct  has  been  observed  by  many  individ- 
uals, and  is  a  characteristic  trait  of  the  species.  The  largest 
Duck  that  I  have  seen  this  bird  attack  and  grapple  with  on 
the  wing  is  the  Mallard. 

"  The   Great-footed    Hawk   does   not,    however,    content 
himself   with   water-fowl.     He  is  generally  seen  following 


THE  PEREGRINE  FALCON.  151 

the  flocks  of  Pigeons  and  even  Blackbirds,  causing  great 
terror  in  their  ranks,  and  forcing  them  to  perform  various 
aerial  evolutions  to  escape  the  grasp  of  his  dreaded  talons. 
For  several  days  I  watched  one  of  them  that  had  taken  a 
particular  fancy  to  some  tame  Pigeons,  to  secure  which  it 
went  so  far  as  to  enter  their  house  at  one  of  the  holes,  seize 
a  bird,  and  issue  by  another  hole  in  an  instant,  causing  such 
terror  among  the  rest  as  to  render  me  fearful  that  they 
would  abandon  the  place.  However,  I  fortunately  shot  the 
depredator. 

"  They  occasionally  feed  on  dead  fish  that  have  floated  to 
the  shores  or  sand-bars.  I  saw  several  of  them  thus  occupied 
while  descending  the  Mississippi  on  a  journey  undertaken 
expressly  for  the  purpose  of  observing  and  procuring 
different  specimens  of  birds,  and  which  lasted  four  months, 
as  I  followed  the  windings  of  that  great  river,  floating  down 
it  only  a  few  miles  daily.  During  that  period,  I  and  my  com- 
panion counted  upwards  of  fifty  of  these  Hawks.  *  *  * 

"  It  is  a  clean  bird  in  respect  to  feeding.  No  sooner  is 
the  prey  dead  than  the  Falcon  turns  its  belly  upwards  and 
begins  to  pluck  it  with  his  bill,  which  he  does  very  expertly, 
holding  it  meantime  quite  fast  in  his  talons;  and  as  soon  as 
a  portion  is  cleared  of  feathers,  tears  the  flesh  in  large 
pieces,  and  swallows  it  with  great  avidity.  If  it  is  a  large 
bird,  he  leaves  the  refuse  parts,  but,  if  small,  swallows  the 
whole  in  pieces.  Should  he  be  approached  by  an  enemy, 
he  rises  with  it  and  flies  off  into  the  interior  of  the  woods, 
or,  if  he  happens  to  be  in  a  meadow,  to  some  considerable 
distance,  he  being  more  wary  at  such  times  than  when  he 
has  alighted  on  a  tree. 

"  These  birds  sometimes  roost  in  the  hollows  of  trees.  I 
saw  one  resorting  for  weeks  every  night  to  a  hole'  in  a  dead 
sycamore,  near  Louisville,  in  Kentucky.  It  generally  came 


152  THE  PEREGRINE  FALCON. 

to  the  place  a  little  before  sunset,  alighted  on  the  dead 
branches,  and  in  a  short  time  after  flew  into  the  hollow, 
where  it  spent  the  night,  and  from  whence  I  saw  it  issuing 
at  dawn.  I  have  known  them  also  to  retire  for  the  same 
purpose  to  the  crevices  of  high  cliffs,  on  the  banks  of  Green 
River,  in  the  same  State. 

"  Many  persons  believe  that  this  Hawk,  and  some  others, 
never  drink  any  other  fluid  than  the  blood  of  their  victims; 
but  this  is  an  error.  I  have  seen  them  alight  on  sand-bars, 
walk  to  the  edge  of  them,  immerse  their  bills  nearly  up  to 
the  eyes  in  water,  and  drink  in  a  continued  manner,  as 
Pigeons  are  known  to  do." 

Undoubtedly  no  American  ornithologist  ever  observed 
the  habits  of  the  Duck  Hawk  as  did  Audubon;  hence  I  have 
preferred  to  quote  verbatim  from  him,  rather  than  to  simu- 
late knowledge  by  swallowing  his  statements  and  disgorging 
the  pellets. 

A  fine  female  of  this  species,  taken  in  Orleans  County,  of 
this  State,  in  autumn,  is  now  before  me.  It  is  about  twenty 
inches  long  and  three  feet  in  extent.  Bill  blackish,  blue  at 
tip,  light-green  at  base;  cere  greenish-yellow;  legs  yellow; 
the  general  color  of  the  upper  parts  is  a  rich  dark-brown, 
the  terminal  part  of  each  feather  being  much  the  darker, 
the  upper  part,  which  is  mostly  covered,  having  a  grayish 
or  ashy  tinge,  especially  about  the  neck,  and  nearly  all  the 
feathers  being  tipped  with  light  brown  or  brownish-white; 
the  inner  web  of  the  wing  feathers  is  crossed  with  round, 
oval  or  long  spots  of  buff  or  light  reddish;  the  tail  has  eight 
broken  cross-bars  of  the  same  color,  and  is  tipped  with 
buffy  white;  the  throat  and  sides  of  the  neck  are  buff,  the 
brown  check-marking  from  the  base  of  the  bill  being  very 
conspicuous;  the  under  parts  and  femoral  feathers  being 
buff  or  buffy  white,  heavily  marked  with  brown.  The  male, 


THE   CHIPPING   SPARROW.  153 

which  is  about  three  inches  shorter,  has  more  of  the  grayish 
or  bluish  tinge  in  the  upper  parts;  and  the  under  parts  are 
lighter — often  nearly  white. 

This  is  a  typical  Falcon,  having  the  short,  abruptly-curved 
and  pointed  bill,  with  a  sharp  tooth  just  back  of  the  point, 
and  a  corresponding  notch  in  the  lower  truncate  mandible; 
the  wings  are  long  and  pointed,  the  second  primary  being 
longest.  This  species  may  be  recognized  by  its  large  feet, 
its  round  nostril,  with  a  point  in  the  center,  and  the  dark 
cheek-marking  starting  from  the  base  of  the  bill. 

The  Old  World  representative  of  this  species  has  been 
most  renowned  in  falconry.  In  this  princely  sport,  practiced 
very  extensively  from  the  most  ancient  times  till  after  the 
use  of  fire-arms,  and  still  continuing  more  or  less  in  vogue, 
the  Peregrine  Falcon  has  ever  proved  most  susceptible  of 
training;  "waiting  on"  the  master  to  perfection,  "ringing" 
the  Heron  as  he  "takes  the  air,"  and  "binding"  him  in  the 
most  gallant  and  sportive  manner.  A  weird  sight  these 
Hawks  must  have  been,  as  they  were  carried  forth  on  the 
wrist  or  on  frames  to  the  hunt,  all  hooded  and  trapped  out 
in  the  most  fantastic  manner;  and  most  animating  must 
have  been  the  sport,  as  the  grand  Falcon  described  his 
aerial  evolutions  in  capturing  his  swift-winged  prey. 

THE   CHIPPING    SPARROW. 

About  the  5th  of  April  the  first  Chipping  Sparrows  (Spi- 
zella  socialis)  appear.  They  do  not  become  very  common, 
however,  until  about  a  week  later.  Of  all  our  native  Spar- 
rows, this  one  shows  the  greatest  confidence  in  man,  pre- 
ferring to  rear  its  young  in  his  immediate  vicinity,  picking 
up  the  crumbs  about  the  door  of  his  habitation,  and  there- 
fore very  properly  called  the  Social  Sparrow.  About  5.50 
long,  and  having  the  common  markings  of  the  Spar- 


154  THE   CHIPPING  SPARROW. 

rows  above,  it  is  to  be  distinguished  from  most  of  its  family 
by  its  smaller  size,  and  from  them  all  by  its  chestnut  crown, 
shading  into  black  in  front,  and  by  its  clear  grayish-white 
breast  and  under  parts.  The  sharp,  chipping  note,  from 
which  it  has  derived  its  most  common  name,  is  certainly 
characteristic,  as  is  also  its  song,  which  is  simply  a  prolonged 
twitter — chip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip,  itself  suggestive  of  the  name 
of  the  singer — frequently  uttered  throughout  the  day  in 
the  breeding  season,  and  not  infrequently  indulged  in  in  the 
night. 

The  anxious  mother,  keeping  watch  at  the  cradle  of  her 
sick  child,  may  hear  it  in  the  lilac  outside  the  window;  or, 
for  the  wakeful  sufferer,  it  may  every  now  and  then  break 
the  monotony  of  the  slow,  dark  hours,  while  at  the  first 
streak  of  the  dawn  it  generally  strikes  the  key-note  of  the 
universal  matin. 

In  the  location  and  structure  of  its  nest,  and,  indeed,  in 
respect  to  the  color  of  its  eggs,  Socialis  is  unlike  the  rest  of 
our  Sparrows.  For  a  nest,  Mr.  Burroughs  says:  "It 
usually  contents  itself  with  a  half-dozen  stalks  of  dry  grass 
and  a  few  long  hairs  from  a  cow's  tail,  loosely  arranged  on 
the  branch  of  an  apple-tree."  While  this  is  graphically 
descriptive  of  many  a  nest,  it  is  by  no  means  exhaustive. 
I  have  before  me  several  quite  bulky  nests.  One  is  com- 
posed outwardly  of  a  dense  arrangement  of  fine  rootlets, 
and  has  a  thick  lining  of  "long  hairs  from  a  cow's  tail" — 
the  same  as  much  that  passes  for  horse-hair  in  other  nests — 
or  hairs  from  the  tail  or  mane  of  some  horse.  The  outside 
of  another  is  a  pretty  good  bunch  of  coarse  rootlets  and 
dried  grasses  loosely  thrown  together,  containing  a  lining 
of  pigs'  bristles  sufficient  to  make  a  nest  in  itself.  Another 
consists  entirely  of  horse-hair.  In  every  case  there  is  such 
a  quantity  of  hair  used  for  lining  as  to  justify  the  name  of 


THE   BAY-WINGED   SPARROW.  155 

Hairbird,  sometimes  given  to  this  species.  The  nest,  placed 
in  any  shrub,  bush,  vine,  on  the  piazza,  or  apple-tree,  is 
never  very  near  the  ground,  and  may  be  pretty  well  up. 
The  eggs,  4  or  5,  .68  x  -48,  are  a  bright  bluish-green,  specked 
at  the  large  end  with  reddish-brown  and  black.  There  are 
generally  two  broods  in  a  season,  the  first  appearing  early 
in  June.  I  have  in  my  possession  almost  a  perfect  Albino 
of  this  species. 

Habitat,  "Eastern  United  States;  breeding  from  Virginia 
northward;  wintering  from  the  same  point  southward." 
(Coues.)  It  is  quite  common  in  New  Brunswick  and  Nova 
Scotia,  and  also  on  Manitoulin  Island,  and  on  the  main  land 
to  the  north. 

THE    BAY-WINGED  SPARROW. 

Not  many  hours  either  earlier  or  later  than  the  morning 
of  the  7th  of  April,  we  hear,  in  this  locality,  the  first  song  of 
the  Bay- winged  Sparrow,  or  Grass  Finch  (Po&cetes  gramineus). 
Almost  at  the  same  hour  it  is  here  in  great  numbers;  and 
throughout  our  latitude  the  fields  and  pastures  are  every- 
where enlivened  by  its  appearance  and  by  its  pleasing 
song.  By  the  white  feathers  on  the  sides  of  the  tail,  becom- 
ing conspicuous  as  the  bird  alights,  by  the  general  lightness 
of  color,  and  by  its  habit  of  skulking  along  so  as  barely  to 
keep  out  of  the  way,  this  bird  is  readily  distinguished  from 
all  the  rest  of  our  Sparrows.  On  taking  it  into  the  hand, 
one  notes  the  patch  of  reddish,  or  bay,  on  the  shoulder  of 
the  wing,  from  which  it  receives  its  more  common  name. 
The  length  is  about  six  inches,  and  male  and  female  are 
alike.  Associating  the  above  distinguishing  characters  with 
the  general  appearance  of  our  Sparrows,  the  bird  will  be 
readily  made  out  as  our  commonest  summer  resident  of  the 
pastures,  the  open  fields,  and  the  road-sides.  On  its  first 
appearance  among  us  in  spring,  and  by  the  time  it  leaves. 


156  THE  BAY-WINGED   SPARROW. 

us  in  late  autumn,  the  warm  tints  of  its  plain  dress  are 
decidedly  pleasing;  but  in  the  burning  heat  of  midsummer, 
from  constant  contact  with  grass,  stubble,  dust  and  gravel, 
it  appears  rather  shabby. 

The  melody  of  the  Bay- wing,  if  not  so  sprightly  and  varied, 
still  bears  quite  a  resemblance  to  that  of  the  Song  Sparrow, 
and  is  expressive  of  a  tender  pathos,  which  may  even  give  it 
the  preference.  It  is  one  of  the  few  bird-songs  which  might 
be  written  upon  a  musical  staff.  Beginning  with  a  few  soft 
syllables  on  the  fifth  note  of  the  musical  scale,  it  strikes 
several  loud  and  prolonged  notes  on  the  eighth  above,  and 
ends  in  a  soft  warble,  which  seems  to  die  out  for  want  of 
breath,  and  may  run  a  little  down  the  scale.  Though  the  song 
is  not  brilliant,  and  rather  suggestive  of  humble  scenes  and 
thoughts,  "  the  grass,  the  stones,  the  stubble,  the  furrow,  the 
quiet  herds,  and  the  warm  twilight  among  the  hills,"  it  is 
nevertheless  a  fine  pastoral,  full  of  the  sweet  content  which 
dwells  in  the  bosom  of  nature.  It  is  heard  to  the  best  advantage 
when  the  rosy  hues  of  sundown  are  tinting  the  road,  the 
rocks,  and  all  the  higher  lights  of  the  evening  landscape. 
Then  an  innumerable  company  of  these  poets  "of  the 
plain,  unadorned  pastures" — some  perched  on  the  fences, 
some  on  weeds  and  thistles,  but  many  more  hid  in  the 
grass  and  stubble — swell  into  their  finest  chorus,  while  most 
other  birds  are  gradually  subsiding  into  silence.  It  has 
been  well  said  that  the  farmer  following  his  team  from  the 
field  at  dusk  catches  the  Bay-wing's  sweetest  strain,  and 
that  a  very  proper  name  for  it  would  be  the  Vesper  Spar- 
row. Its  nest,  which  is  on  the  ground,  and  often  without 
any  protection,  is  built  outwardly  of  the  coarse  material  of 
the  fields,  and  lined  with  fine  grass,  rootlets,  or  horse-hair. 
The  eggs,  4  or  5,  some  .80  x  .60  of  an  inch,  are  mostly  dull 
white  and  quite  variable  in  their  markings,  generally  thickly 


WHJTE-BELLIED   SWALLOW.  157 

specked  with  reddish-brown  and  lilac;  they  are  often  spot- 
ted and  blotched  with  darker  brown  and  blackish,  and  often 
scratched  and  scrawled  with  black  as  with  a  pen,  after  the 
manner  of  the  eggs  of  the  Icteridce. 

As  the  first  brood  may  be  hatched  here  by  the  middle  of 
May,  the  abundance  of  nests  in  all  the  fields  brings  them 
in  contact  with  the  plow  in  great  numbers;  and  as  the  eggs 
of  the  second  or  last  brood  may  be  fresh  about  the  4th  of 
July,  many  nests  are  destroyed  in  the  hay-field.  The  losses 
sustained  therefore  by  this  bird  in  nidification  are  probably 
greater  by  far  than  those  of  any  other  species  in  the  locality. 

Habitat,  the  United  States  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and 
reported  by  Dr.  Richardson  from  the  Saskatchawan. 
Winters  abundantly  in  the  Southern  States,  and  breeds  from 
the  southern  Middle  States  northward,  becoming  very  rare 
in  New  Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia. 

WHITE-BELLIED    SWALLOW. 

About  the  first  or  second  week  in  April  the  White-bellied 
Swallow  (Tachycineta  bicolor)  makes  its  appearance.  This 
earliest  arrival  of  its  very  interesting  family  is  most  likely 
to  be  seen  along  streams  or  ponds;  and  while  it  exceeds 
but  a  little  the  average  size  of  the  different  kinds  of  Swal- 
lows—  for  excepting  the  Purple  or  Black  Martin  (Progne 
purpured),  the  Swallows  differ  but  slightly  in  dimensions  — 
it  is  readily  distinguished  by  its  simple  markings  of  glossy 
greenish-black  above,  and  pure  white  beneath,  whence  its 
specific  name  Bicolor,  or  two-colored.  In  purity  and  ele- 
gance of  color  it  surpasses  all  the  rest  of  its  family  in  this 
locality,  and  is  itself  surpassed  on  this  continent  only  by 
the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the 
Pacific  Coast,  known  as  the  Violet-green  Swallow  {Tachy- 
cineta thalassind).  Its  notes  are  particularly  soft  and  musical 


158  WHITE-BELLIED   SWALLOW. 

for  a  bird  of  its  kind,  so  that  it  is  called  by  some  the  Sing- 
ing Swallow. 

The  flight  of  the  Swallow  is  one  of  the  wonders  of 
nature.  Achieving  in  its  ordinary  flight  at  least  a  mile  in  a 
minute,  the  Barn  Swallow  "has  been  known  to  leave  Hali- 
fax, Nova  Scotia,  at  sunset,  for  the  South,  and  to  reach  the 
Islands  of  Bermuda,  800  miles  due  south,  by  sunrise  the 
next  morning."  (Tristram.)  Thus,  in  comparatively  a  few 
hours,  it  can  pass  from  the  Arctic  snows  to  the  tropics. 
Wilson  estimating  the  flight  of  the  Swallow  at  a  mile  in  a 
minute,  its  time  spent  on  wing  per  day  to  be  ten  hours,  and 
its  length  of  life  at  ten  years,  shows  that  it  would  thus  pass 
round  the  globe  eighty-seven  times. 

The  White-bellied  Swallow  is  especially  swift  and  grace- 
ful in  flight.  Behold  it  "skating  on  the  air."  How  it 
dashes  along,  seemingly  almost  without-exertion,  capturing 
its  food  or  dipping  its  bill  into  the  glistening  stream  to 
drink,  or  washing  itself  "by  a  sudden  plunge,"  all  of  which 
scarcely  retards  its  onward  movement.  In  a  moment  it  is 
out  of  sight,  or  else  rising  nearly  perpendicularly,  it  will 
suddenly  shoot  across  the  tree-tops  with  almost  lightning 
speed,  performing  the  most  wondrous  aerial  evolutions  as 
easily  as  if  it  were  tossed  by  the  winds  themselves.  The 
whole  domain  of  air  is  the  Swallow's  home.  No  path  of 
insect  is  beyond  its  reach,  and  what  bird  of  prey  can  over- 
take it?  Here  is  freedom,  indeed,  and  a  life  that  is  one 
continual  recreation. 

The  White-bellied  Swallow  is  associated  with  the  days  of 
my  childhood  in  Nova  Scotia.  Many  a  nest  did  I  find  in 
the  hollow  stumps  of  the  low  pastures.  A  few  dried  grasses 
compose  the  outside,  the  inside  being  a  considerable  mass 
of  large,  downy,  white  feathers  of  the  tame  Goose,  so  laid 
that  the  tips  curl  inward,  and  almost  cover  the  eggs  when 


WHITE-BELLIED   SWALLOW.  159 

the  bird  is  off  the  nest.  The  pure  white  eggs,  some  four  or 
five,  are  real  gems  of  beauty.  How  bravely  the  parent 
birds  would  defend  their  nest,  describing  their  noisy  circles 
in  near  proximity,  and,  with  a  guttural  shriek,  diving  so 
closely  at  the  head  of  the  intruder,  as  to  induce' a  speedy 
retreat.  The  same  stump  would  be  occupied  for  a  series  of 
years,  the  annual  additions  of  lining  giving  considerable 
depth  to  the  nest  in  time.  In  New  England  this  bird  is  now 
said  to  build  in  "a  Martin-box,"  or  "rarely  in  the  hole  of  a 
tree."  In  New  York  it  nests  in  holes  about  the  walls  of 
brick  or  stone  buildings — as  an  instance,  in  large  numbers 
in  holes  about  the  stone  buildings  of  the  Johnston  Harvester 
Works  at  Brockport.  Here,  too,  it  sometimes  builds  in  the 
holes  of  trees,  and  more  or  less  in  community. 

On  the  Mud  Islands,  .Yarmouth  County,  Nova  Scotia,  I 
saw  the  nests  of  this  species  on  the  ground  under  flat  stones, 
and  in  holes  in  the  ground.  They  were  elegantly  lined 
with  the  feathers  of  the  Herring  Gull  and  of  the  Eider 
Duck,  the  feathers  being  so  laid  that  the  tips  curled  upward 
and  nearly  concealed  the  eggs. 

Though  these  Swallows  do  not  generally  nest  in  commu- 
nities, they  often  associate  in  large  numbers  in  spring  and 
fall.  What  a  spirited  scene  I  witnessed  about  the  middle  of 
last  April,  on  one  of  the  secluded  ponds  of  Tonawanda 
Swamp.  The  number  gyrating  above  the  glassy  surface  so 
filled  the  air  that  their  movements  without  contact  with 
each  other  seemed  impossible.  The  air  became  darkened, 
and  was  made  resonant  by  the  volume  of  their  musical 
twitterings. 

These  Swallows  leave  us  from  the  earlier  half  of  Septem- 
ber to  middle  of  October,  when  they  may  be  seen  in  great 
numbers.  Mr.  Maynard,  of  Newtonville,  Mass.,  says:  "  They 
congregate  upon  the  salt  marshes  during  the  latter  part  of 


160  THE   COW  BLACKBIRD. 

August  and  the  first  of  September  literally  by  millions;  the 
air  is  so  completely  filled  with  them  that  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  discharge  a  gun  without  killing  some." 

I  have  seen  them  in  like  numbers  along  the  Niagara 
River  in  the  latter  part  of  September.  They  would  darken 
the  air  in  flight,  and,  when  alighting,  would  blacken  the 
shore  for  a  long  distance. 

Its  habitat  is  temperate  North  America,  reaching  even  to 
Alaska,  throughout  which  it  breeds  quite  generally,  while  it 
winters  in  the  extreme  Southern  States,  in  Central  America, 
and  in  the  West  Indies. 

Our  several  species  of  the  Swallow  are  among  the  birds 
which  are  especially  regular  in  the  times  of  their  migrations. 
Now,  as  in  the  days  of  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  it  knows  the 
time  of  its  coming,  and  as  truly  marks  the  ushering  in  of 
the  joyous  days  of  spring  as  when  the  boys  of  Athens  sang 
their  familiar  ditty  in  its  honor. 

The  Swallows,  Swifts,  and  Goat-suckers  were  formerly  all 
classed  together  as  Fissirostrals,  or  those  having  a  deeply- 
cleft  bill.  The  resemblance  which  the  Swallows  bear  to  the 
two  other  groups  is,  however,  merely  external,  an  analogy 
rather  than  an  affinity. 

A  strict  anatomy  proves  the  Swallows  alone  to  have  the 
complicated  muscular  system  of  the  lower  larynx  belonging 
to  the  birds  of  song,  while  the  remaining  Fissirostrals,  having 
the  simpler  larnx  of  the  non-singing  birds,  are  placed  among 
the  Flycatchers  and  Humming-birds. 

THE    COW    BLACKBIRD. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  and  forcible  lessons  in  nature 
is  the  conjugal  and  parental  affection  of  the  birds.  The 
inimitable  songs  of  the  males  are  generally  most  ardently 
and  sweetly  delivered,  while  the  females  are  enduring  the 


THE   COW  BLACKBIRD.  161 

tedious  confinement  and  exhaustion  of  incubation;  thus 
charming  the  ear  with  an  entertainment  which  might  delight 
the  very  highest  intelligences,  and  so  beguiling  the  weary 
hours.  Behold  that  male  Bluebird  feeding  the  female  in  the 
most  kindly  manner,  or  the  Rose-breasted  Grosbeak  taking 
apparently  the  greater  part  of  the  burden  of  incubation 
upon  himself !  How  disconsolate  is  that  House  Wren 
whose  mate  the  cat  has  killed  !  Listen  to  the  sad  meanings 
of  that  Mourning  Dove  bereft  of  his  mate  !  I  hav&  some- 
times pointed  the  newly-married  couple  to  the  birds  as  being 
the  best  guide  to  domestic  felicity. 

And  has  the  reader  ever  noticed  the  melancholy  arts  of  a 
female  bird,  when  startled  from  her  eggs,  as  she  hobbles 
and  flutters  along  the  ground  feigning  broken  legs  and 
wings  ?  Has  he  ever  seen  the  distress  of  the  mother  Part- 
ridge at  the  alarm  of  her  young  brood  ?  Giving  them  the 
well-understood  signal  to  hide  themselves,  she  tumbles 
about  and  moans,  as  if  in  the  last  agonies  of  death,  and  will 
even  allow  herself  to  be  touched  by  the  hand  in  order  to 
decoy  the  intruder;  and  when  danger  seems  over,  listen  to 
her  pathetic  maternal  call,  which  again  brings  the  tender 
younglings  under  her  wings  !  Neither  father  nor  mother  of 
the  human  species  could  feed  and  protect  a  helpless  family 
with  more  self-sacrificing  industry  than  is  universally  com- 
mon to  the  parent  birds.  Audubon  tells  us  how  the  heart 
of  a  pirate  was  once  softened  while  listening  to  the  tender 
cooings  of  the  Zenaida  Doves  in  the  breeding  season  on 
one  of  the  Florida  Keys.  Dropping  on  his  knees  upon 
the  burning  sand,  he  penitently  besought  heaven  for  mercy, 
and,  at  the  peril  of  his  life,  forsook  his  murderous  crew, 
and  joined  his  formerly  abandoned  family. 

In  the  case,  however,  of  the  Cow  Blackbird  (Molothrus 
pecoris]  of  America,  and  the  Cuckoo  of  Europe,  two  birds 
11 


162  THE   COW  BLACKBIRD. 

belonging  to  altogether  different  families,  we  note  a  most 
remarkable  exception,  these  being  wholly  polygamous  and 
parasitic.  The  Cow  Blackbird  makes  its  first  appearance 
in  Western  New  York  about  the  end  of  the  first  week  in 
April.  Some  7.00  or  7.50  long,  the  male  is  a  glossy  greenish- 
black,  with  a  brown  head.  The  female,  somewhat  smaller, 
is  plain  slaty-brown.  In  sombre  groups  of  some  half- 
dozen  or  more — the  males  being  at  first  the  more  numerous, 
but  the  sexes  soon  becoming  about  equally  represented  — 
they  perch  leisurely  on  the  fence,  on  a  solitary  tree  in  the 
field  or  in  the  edge  of  the  woods,  often  penetrating  the 
thickest  forests.  The  intercourse  of  the  sexes  is  entirely 
promiscuous,  no  male  ever  showing  any  continuous  attach- 
ment to  any  one  female.  Since  the  body-guard  of  insects 
accompanying  the  cattle  affords  the  Cow  Bird  a  constant 
repast,  or  more  especially  from  the  attractiveness  of  certain 
intestinal  worms  passed  in  the  excrements  of  cattle  by  means 
of  the  aperient  effects  of  green  grass  in  spring  and  early  sum- 
mer, this  species  is  noted  for  its  preference  of  the  vicinity  of 
these  quadrupeds;  even  lighting  on  their  backs;  hence  its 
common  name,  Cow  Blackbird,  formerly  Cow  Bunting. 

Dr.  Coues  says:  "Cow  Birds  appear  to  be  particularly 
abundant  in  the  west;  more  so,  perhaps,  than  they  really 
are,  for  the  numbers  that  in  the  East  spread  equally  over 
large  areas  are  here  drawn  within  small  compass,  owing  to 
lack  of  attractions  abroad.  Every  wagon-train  passing  over 
the  prairies  in  summer  is  attended  by  flocks  of  the  birds; 
every  camp  and  stock-corral,  permanent  or  temporary,  is 
besieged  by  the  busy  birds  eager  to  glean  subsistence  from 
the  wasted  forage.  Their  familiarity  under  these  circum- 
stances is  surprising.  Perpetually  wandering  about  the 
feet  of  the  draught-animals,  or  perching  upon  their  backs, 
they  become  so  accustomed  to  man's  presence  that  they 


THE   COW  BLACKBIRD.  163 

will  hardly  get  out  of  the  way.  I  have  even  known  a  young 
bird  to  suffer  itself  to  be  taken  in  hand,  and  it  is  no  uncom- 
mon thing  to  have  the  birds  fluttering  within  a  few  feet  of 
one's  head.  The  animals  appear  to  rather  like  the  birds,  and 
suffer  them  to  perch  in  a  row  upon  their  back-bones,  doubt- 
less finding  the  scratching  of  their  feet  a  comfortable  sensa- 
tion, to  say  nothing  of  the  riddance  from  insect  parasites." 

In  respect  to  its  vocal  performances,  this  bird  is  curious 
rather  than  entertaining.  Ruffing  up  its  feathers,  opening 
wide  its  mouth,  and  appearing  to  strain  every  muscle,  it 
"  seems  literally  to  vomit  up  its  notes,"  which  bear  a  formal 
resemblance,  indeed,  to  those  of  the  closely-related  Red- 
winged  Blackbird,  but  are  almost  entirely  destitute  of  their 
claims  to  musical  quality.  The  vocal  utterances  of  Pecoris 
do  certainly  "  gurgle  and  blubber  up  out  of  him,  falling  on 
the  ear  with  a  peculiar  subtle  ring,  as  of  turning  water  from 
a  glass  bottle,"  but,  perhaps,  on  account  of  my  prejudice,  I 
fail  utterly  to  discover  their  "pleasing  cadence." 

While  other  birds  are  busy  building  their  nests, 
this  reckless  free-lover  betrays  no  impulse  whatever  in 
this  direction,  but  gayly  flitting  about  from  place  to  place, 
spends  his  time  in  mere  wanton  pleasure.  As  soon  as  the 
nests  of  other  birds  are  completed,  you  may  notice  the 
females  of  this  dusky  flock  of  Cow  Birds  becoming  very 
uneasy.  One  by  one  they  steal  away  in  quest  of  some 
strange  nest  in  which  to  deposit  their  eggs.  They  have 
been  known  to  search  the  ground,  the  bushes,  and  the  trees 
for  miles  in  order  to  accomplish  their  purpose.  Never 
driving  away  the  rightful  owner,  nor  taking  possession  by 
force,  they  will  creep  stealthily  into  the  nest  in  the  absence 
of  the  owner,  and  hastily  depositing  an  egg,  hurry  back  to 
join  their  company  with  the  most  obvipus  sense  of  relief, 
and  without  the  slightest  further  concern  for  their  offspring. 


IQ4  THE   COW  BLACKBIRD. 

This  species  has  never  been  known  to  build  a  nest,  nor  to  take 
any  interest  in  raising  its  young,  which  are  left  entirely  to 
the  care  of  foster  parents.  Almost  invariably  the  nest  of  a 
bird  much  smaller  than  itself  is  chosen.  The  Sparrows,  the 
Warblers,  the  Vireos,  the  smaller  Flycatchers  —  in  fact,  any 
of  the  small  land-birds  —  may  become  the  victim  of  this  im- 
position. Occasionally  birds  near  its  own  size,  as  the 
Scarlet  Tanager  or  the  Bluebird,  may  be  obliged  to  bear 
the  burden.  The  Cow  Bird's  egg  is  so  unusually  small  for 
the  size  of  the  bird,  only  some  .90  X  -65  of  an  inch,  that  it 
is  readily  accommodated  in  the  nests  of  very  small  birds, 
whereas,  if  dropped  into  that  of  larger  ones,  it  may  be 
thrown  out.  I  have  found  it  with  a  hole  in  the  side  and 
lying  on  the  ground,  beneath  the  nest  of  the  Yellow-breasted 
Chat,  thus  evidently  pierced  by  the  bill  of  the  bird,  and 
ousted  in  indignation.  These  eggs,  of  a  dirty  white  and 
specked  all  over  with  brown,  are  readily  distinguished  from 
those  of  any  nest  in  which  they  may  be  placed,  and  are 
always  unwelcome  to  the  owners,  which  will  become  very 
uneasy  and  querulous;  and  the  female,  hunting  up  its  mate, 
will  make  a  noisy  ado  over  the  intrusion.  If  the  owner 
has  not  yet  laid  her  own  eggs  she  may  forsake  the  nest,  or 
add  a  story  to  it,  thus  burying  the  foreign  egg  so  deeply  as 
to  suffer  no  inconvenience  from  it.  Many  cases  of  the  latter 
expediency  have  been  found.  Wilson  found  a  Yellow  War- 
bler's nest  containing  two  eggs  thus  separately  built  out,  mak- 
ing a  nest  of  three  stories.  I  have  seen  a  like  nest  of  the  Red- 
start. The  owner  of  such  a  nest  does,  indeed,  deserve  "a 
better  fate  than  that  her  house  should  at  last  be  despoiled  by 
a  naturalist;"  but  "passing  thus  into  history,"  and  making 
such  a  contribution  to  science,  is  worth  a  great  sacrifice.  I 
once  found  a  Wood  Thrush  sitting  stupidly  on  a  solitary  egg 
of  the  Cow  Blackbird.  This  would  seem  to  be  exceptional. 


THE   COW  BLACKBIRD.  165 

Wilson  and  Audubon,  as  well  as  the  earlier  ornithologists 
in  general,  were  mistaken  in  saying  that  no  nest  contained 
more  than  one  of  the  Cow  Blackbird's  eggs.  I  have  fre- 
quently found  more  than  one  in  the  same  nest;  once  not 
less  than  four  in  the  nest  of  a  Scarlet  Tanager,  which  had 
only  room  enough  left  for  two  of  her  own.  Mr.  Trippe 
once  found  a  Black-and-white  Creeper's  nest  with  five  of 
the  eggs  of  the  interloper  and  three  deposited  by  the  owner. 
Dr.  Coues  has  well  said:  "We  may  consider  this  pair  of 
Creepers  relieved,  on  the  whole,  by  Mr.  Trippe's  visit  —  the 
mother-bird  rescued  from  drowning  in  the  inundation  of  so 
many  'well-springs,'  and  the  father  saved  the  necessity  of 
hanging  himself  from  the  nearest  convenient  crotch." 

Perhaps  requiring  a  shorter  period  of  incubation,  perhaps 
on  account  of  the  size  of  the  egg  being  greater,  and  thus 
receiving  more  warmth  than  those  of  the  owner  of  the  nest, 
the  Cow  Bird's  egg  invariably  hatches  first.  Then  the 
foster  parent,  prompted  by  the  generosity  of  parental  in- 
stinct, will  leave  her  own  eggs  to  chill,  while  she  secures  food 
for  the  foundling.  Thus  the  Cow  Bird  alone  is  hatched, 
and  the  addled  eggs  of  the  owner  of  the  nest  are  soon 
removed.  Considering  the  number  of  nests  thus  intruded 
upon,  sometimes  apparently  more  than  half  of  the  small 
birds'  nests  in  this  locality,  the  check  thus  put  upon 
the  propagation  of  these  various  species  must  be  very 
great. 

The  young  Cow  Blackbird  grows  rapidly,  and  soon  more 
than  fills  the  nest.  Meanwhile  the  foster  parents  feed  it 
most  assiduously,  and  continue  to  do  so  long  after  it  has 
left  the  nest,  and  when  it  is  many  times  larger  than  the 
little  Sparrow  or  Warbler  thus  imposed  upon.  It  is  by  no 
means  suggestive  of  pleasing  reflections  to  see  this  great 
over-grown  foundling  flapping  its  wings  and  calling  loudly 


166  THE  MOURNING  DOVE. 

for  these  attentions  when  it  seems  sufficiently  mature  to  take 
care  of  itself. 

The  remarkable  sagacity  of  these  young  birds  in  discov- 
ering each  other  has  been  well  noted  by  ornithologists.  I 
have  seen  them  in  very  considerable  flocks  already  by  the 
20th  of  June,  and  later  in  the  season  they  gather  into  flocks, 
which  are  simply  immense. 

Considering  how  many  of  our  summer  residents  are 
hard  to  find  during  the  moulting  period,  it  may  not  after  all 
appear  so  strange  that  the  Cow  Bird  seems  absent  during  a 
certain  part  of  summer.  In  late  summer  and  early 
autumn  they  are  wont  to  assemble  in  large  flocks,  some- 
times quite  destructive,  and,  migrating  late  in  autumn, 
spend  the  winter  in  great  numbers  in  the  Southern  States. 
They  are  said  to  deposit  their  eggs  from  35°  to  68°  north. 
General  habitat,  North  America. 

Plain  in  form  and  color,  without  musical  attractions,  of  a 
disgusting  diet,  an  arrant  free-lover,  wholly  without 
parental  affection,  a  destroyer  at  the  very  threshold  of  the 
life  of  many  of  our  most  interesting  birds,  in  short,  in  all 
respects  of  most  distasteful  and  infamous  habits,  this  grand 
ornithological  nuisance  would  seem  to  claim  no  considera- 
tion whatever,  except  as  an  anomaly,  being  a  most  flat  con- 
tradiction of  the  laws  of  its  kind,  and  hence  an  addition  to 
nature's  great  variety. 

THE    MOURNING    DOVE. 

On  the  10th  of  April  one  of  my  parishioners  called  my 
attention  to  what  he  called  a  flock  of  Plover  in  a  field 
where  he  had  raised  corn  the  year  before.  The  flock,  con- 
sisting of  some  twenty,  turned  out  to  be  Mourning  Doves 
(Zenadura  carolinensis).  Rarely  do  we  see  so  many  together 
at  any  time  of  year  in  this  locality.  Occasionally,  how- 


THE  MOURNING  DOVE.  167 

ever,  they  will  appear  in  the  newly-reaped  wheat-fields  in 
the  month  of  August  in  very  large  flocks.  They  remained 
in  this  field  for  days,  gleaning  the  stray  kernels  of  corn,  and 
perhaps  the  seeds  of  the  coarser  weeds.  These  birds  arrive 
quite  as  early  as  the  present  date,  generally  in  pairs,  and 
sometimes  stray  individuals  remain  all  winter.  In  Northern 
Ohio  they  spend  the  winter  in  small  flocks  about  the  barn- 
yards and  orchards,  gleaning  and  feeding  along  with  the 
domestic  fowl,  thus  becoming  almost  domesticated.  Hav- 
ing the  small  head,  peculiar  bill,  slender  neck,  short  legs, 
and  pointed  tail  of  the  Doves,  it  is  a  genuine  member  of 
the  ColumbidcE  family,  and  a  near  relative  of  our  Pigeon. 
About  a  foot  long,  with  fourteen  tail  feathers,  and  a  naked 
space  around  the  eyes,  its  color  is  a  slaty-brown  above, 
bluish  on  the  top  of  the  head  and  on  the  back  of  the  neck,  a 
velvety-black  spot  on  the  auriculars;  front  of  the  neck, 
breast,  and  under  parts,  a  delicate,  warm  light-red;  throat, 
crissum,  and  ends  of  the  outer  tail  feathers,  white.  Here 
and  there  about  the  wings  and  back  is  a  dark  slaty  or  black 
feather.  The  sides  of  the  neck  have  a  beautiful,  metallic 
purple  gloss,  or  iridescence.  Female  and  young,  plainer 
and  duller,  and  slaty  on  the  breast. 

As  in  Bible  lands,  the  cooing  of  the  Dove  is  one  of  the 
characteristic  voices  of  our  advanced  spring.  In  thickets, 
and  especially  in  orchards,  sometimes  even  in  the  orna- 
mented evergreens  of  the  front-yard,  some  four  successive 
notes,  a  most  mournful  cooing  among  "  the  saddest  sounds 
in  nature,"  may  be  heard  throughout  the  day,  but  especially 
in  the  early  morning.  These  notes,  however,  so  strangely 
in  contrast  with  the  universal  gladness  of  spring,  are  by  no 
means  the  utterance  of  grief  or  woe,  but  rather  of  the  ten- 
derest  emotions  of  love  and  joy.  They  are  the  conjugal 
notes  of  the  male;  and  such  are  his  attentions  and  appar- 


168  THE   MOURNING  DOVE. 

ently  life-long  attachment  to  the  female,  that,  like  the  Doves 
in  general  through  all  historic  times,  he  is  a  fit  emblem  of 
the  domestic  affections.  Moreover,  his  solemn,  mournful  air 
renders  him  a  fit  symbol  of  the  most  pensive  side  of  nature. 

The  nest  of  this  species,  found  here  late  in  May,  placed  in 
a  bush  or  tree,  on  the  roots  of  a  windfall,  on  a  stump,  or  on 
the  ground,  is  generally  a  slight  and  loose  construction  of 
dry  twigs,  and  perhaps  a  few  rootlets,  built  in  what  is  called 
the  platform  style,  so  slight  that  one  can  scarcely  imagine 
how  the  eggs  can  be  hatched  and  the  young  ones  raised  on 
it;  and  contains  two  beautiful  white  eggs,  measuring  about 
1.12  X  -85.  A  nest  now  before  me,  some  two  inches  or  more 
in  thickness,  and  lound  in  an  orchard,  is  made  of  neat, 
crooked  twigs,  more  or  less  covered  with  lichens,  and  very 
artistically  laid.  It  is  finished  on  the  top  with  fine  rootlets, 
skeleton-leaves,  and  bits  of  wool;  and  is  a  very  gem  of  its 
kind,  reminding  one  of  some  fancy  log-cabin. 

The  young  Doves  are  well  matured  before  they  leave  the 
nest,  and  sit  side  by  side  upon  the  ordinarily  rude  affair. 
At  night  the  old  one  sits  crosswise  on  them,  even  when  they 
are  quite  large,  the  nest  and  birds  together  thus  making 
quite  a  grotesque  pile. 

The  diet  of  these  birds  is  well  stated  by  Wilson,  who  says 
they  "are  exceedingly  fond  of  buckwheat,  hemp-seed  and 
Indian  corn;  feed  on  the  berries  of  the  holly,  the  dogwood, 
and  poke,  huckleberries,  partridge-berries,  and  the  small 
acorns  of  the  live  oak  and  shrub  oak.  They  devour  large 
quantities  of  gravel,  and  sometimes  pay  a  visit  to  the  kitchen- 
garden  for  peas,  for  which  they  have  a  particular  regard." 

The  Mourning  Doves,  or  Carolina  Turtle  Doves,  as  they 
are  sometimes  called,  may  often  be  seen  dusting  themselves 
in  the  road;  and,  at  all  times,  their  flight  is  very  noticeable 
from  the  sharp  whistling  noise  produced  by  each  stroke  of 


THE    WHITE-RUMPED   SHRIKE.  169 

the  wings.  They  are  abundant  summer  residents,  many 
also  spending  the  winter  throughout  the  Middle  States; 
becoming  rare  already  in  New  England,  they  barely  extend 
into  the  British  Provinces.  Many  migrate  to  the  Southern 
States,  where  they  spend  the  winter  in  large  flocks;  and 
many  remain  there  during  the  summer.  The  Mourning 
Doves  are  also  common  to  the  Pacific  Coast. 

The  elegant  White-headed  Dove  of  the  West  India  Islands 
is  a  summer  resident  of  the  Florida  Keys.  About  13.12 
long,  the  "general  color  throughout  is  dark  slaty-blue, 
becoming  very  dark  on  the  tail  above  and  black  beneath." 
Crown  pure  white;  back  of  neck  rich  purplish-brown;  sides 
of  the  neck  elegant  iridescent  green,  with  golden  reflections 
and  a  fine  black  margin  to  each  feather.  The  Zenaida  Dove, 
with  a  most  plaintive  and  pathetic  note,  has  been  found  by 
Audubon  only,  on  the  Florida  Keys.  The  plain  but  elegant 
little  Ground  Dove,  only  seven  inches  long,  "a  constant 
resident  throughout  the  Carolinas  and  southward,  may  be 
so  easily  known  by  its  diminutive  size  that  it  needs  no 
description.  Its  rather  elaborate  nest  of  twigs  and  weeds 
lined  with  iisnea,  and  containing  one  or  two  creamy 
white  eggs,  some  .85  X  .64,  may  be  on  the  ground,  or  in  a 
bush  or  tree.  The  Key  West  Dove  appears  in  summer  on 
Key  West,  as  implied  by  its  name.  Excepting  the  Ground 
Dove,  the  above  group  of  Doves  belongs  to  the  West  Indies, 
and  barely  reaches  the  localities  named  in  summer. 

THE    WHITE-RUMPED    SHRIKE. 

About  this  12th  of  April  I  observe  a  quite  common  bird  of 
this  locality,  the  White-rumped  Shrike  (Collurio  ludovidanus 
var.  excubitoroides),  already  mated.  Single  individuals  of  this 
species  are  here  in  March,  and  their  first  brood  may  be 
hatched  by  the  latter  part  of  April,  a  second  appearing  in 


170  THE    WHITE-RUMPED   SHRIKE. 

July.  Some  8.50-9.00  long,  it  is  about  an  inch  shorter 
than  the  Northern  Shrike  (Collurio  borealis),  and  precisely 
the  size  of  the  Loggerhead  (Collurio  ludovicianus)  of  the 
Gulf  States,  of  which  latter  it  is  now  regarded  as  a  mere 
variety,  occupying  the  more  western  and  northwestern 
regions.  Coues  gives  its  habitat:  "  Middle  Province  of 
North  America,  to  the  Saskatchewan;  east  through  Kansas, 
Iowa,  Ohio,  Illinois  and  Wisconsin,  to  New  York  and  Canada 
West,  probably  into  New  England.  In  the  Southern  States, 
replaced  by  typical  ludovicianus.  On  the  Pacific  Coast,  not 
observed  north  of  California.  South  through  Mexico." 
Frank  R.  Rathbun,  in  his  list  of  birds  of  Central  New  York, 
states  that  it  is  "a  not  uncommon  summer  resident." 

Bluish-ash  above,  white  beneath  (sometimes  rather  gray- 
ish-white), patches  from  the  base  of  the  bill  across  the  eyes 
and  auriculars,  the  rounded  wings  and  tail,  black;  spot  in 
the  base  of  the  primaries,  tips  of  some  of  the  secondaries, 
edging  of  the  scapulars,  sides  of  the  tail  and  rump,  white; 
bill  and  feet  black  —  this  bird  is  really  beautiful,  especially 
in  its  flight,  which  is  low  and  straightforward,  with 
rapid  strokes,  showing  the  clear  white  and  black  of  the 
wings  and  tail  to  fine  advantage.  The  rapid  wing  motion 
seems  almost  to  describe  contiguous  semicircles  of  white 
and  black  at  the  sides  of  the  moving  bird,  and  contrast  finely 
with  its  clear,  light  colors.  It  perches  on  some  solitary  tree  in 
the  open  field,  on  a  fence-stake,  or  on  the  hedge;  sitting 
motionless  as  a  Hawk,  while  it  watches  its  vicinity  for  its 
favorite  items  of  prey,  consisting  of  various  small  insects, 
beetles,  grasshoppers,  mice,  and  small  birds,  which  last  it 
may  not  infrequently  be  seen  lugging  by  the  head  as  it  flies 
from  point  to  point,  or  munching  at  its  leisure  when  perched. 

The  orchard  is  decidedly  a  favorite  resort  of  this  bird. 
Here,  saddled  on  the  limb  of  an  apple-tree,  it  builds  its 


THE,   WHITE-RUMPED   SHRIKE.  m 

strongly  characterized  nest  of  sticks,  coarse  weeds,  rootlets, 
shreds  of  bark,  woody  fibers,  dried  grasses,  thread,  wool, 
and  feathers,  the  lining  consisting  particularly  of  the  last- 
mentioned  items.  The  whole  structure  is  bulky  and  ragged, 
the  rim  being  so  thick,  loose  and  irregular  as  almost  to 
hide  the  eggs,  which  may  be  partially  buried  in  the  care- 
lessly-arranged lining.  The  eggs,  5  or  6,  about  1.00  x  ^5 
are  dull  white,  spotted  with  greenish-gray  or  brown,  and  a 
more  neutral  tint  of  lilac-gray.  The  nest  may  be  placed  in 
a  solitary  tree  of  the  open  field,  or  in  the  thick  part  of  the 
hedge.  Having  taken  a  nest  with  6.  fresh  eggs  on  the  28th 
of  April,  by  the  end  of  the  first  week  in  May  another  had 
been  built  and  contained  3  eggs. 

During  the  breeding  season  the  male  may  be  frequently 
seen  perched  on  the  fence  by  the  road-side.  This  is  almost 
a  silent  bird,  the  male  occasionally  uttering  a  loud  peemp, 
peemp,  in  the  mating  period,  and  the  female  uttering  a  pro- 
longed guttural  squeak  when  startled  from  her  nest.  The 
latter  resembles  a  weaker  note  of  the  Vireos,  uttered  under 
like  circumstances. 

The  young  Shrikes  resemble  their  parents,  except  that  the 
colors  are  not  so  pure  and  bright,  and  they  have  a  light- 
brownish  wash  across  the  breast,  in  which,  as  also  in  the  ashen- 
gray  of  the  upper  parts,  there  is  a  fine,  dark  cross-penciling. 

The  White-rumped  Shrike  leaves  us  late  in  the  fall. 

The  Shrikes  are  a  strange  family  of  birds.  With  the  bill 
and  head  of  a  Falcon,  the  mouth-bristles  of  a  Flycatcher, 
the  feet  and  laryngeal  muscles  of  a  song-bird,  the  dietetic 
habits  of  a  Hawk,  and,  in  the  case  of  our  American  species, 
the  color  of  the  Mockingbird,  ornithologists  have  been 
much  puzzled  as  to  their  place  in  classification.  In  the 
latest  American  works,  they  rank  between  the  Vireonidce. 
and  the  Fringillida. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LATER    IN    APRIL. 
THE    DABCHICK. 

ON  the  15th  of  April,  I  go  to  Lake  Ontario  at  the  mouth 
of  Johnson's  Creek  to  spend  a  few  days  in  observing  and 
collecting.  As  I  stealthily  approach  the  creek  near  its  outlet, 
I  see  a  Dabchick  (Pqdilymbus podiceps)  swimming1  among  the 
rushes.  Occasionally  he  emits  a  clear  whistle  not  unlike 
the  peep  of  the  Hylas.  How  spry  he  is,  darting  hither  and 
thither,  diving  to  reappear  many  rods  away,  and  shaking  his 
head  violently  as  he  emerges.  I  cannot  tell  one  moment 
where  to  look  for  him  the  next.  No  wonder  he  has  received 
the  common  name — Water- witch.  Now  he  starts  up  and 
flies  a  few  rods,  patting  the  surface  of  the  water  with  his 
lobate  feet,  as  if  he  were  half  flying  and  half  running.  His 
head  turns  so  quickly  in  every  direction  that  I  cannot  decide 
whether  he  sees  me  or  not  only  as  I  imply  it  from  his  sink- 
ing so  deeply  as  he  swims  whenever  he  rises  after  diving, 
and  finally  from  his  disappearing  among  the  sedges.  This 
is  no  doubt  a  breeding  place  of  this  species,  as  are  also  the 
marshes  about  Grand  Island,  in  Niagara  River.  In  August 
or  September,  when  the  family  is  well  grown,  it  is  interest- 
ing to  watch  them  at  their  sports  in  their  quiet  haunts. 
They  seem  most  active  between  daylight  and  sunrise.  Then, 
if  one  is  well  hid  away  by  the  still  water,  their  active  swim- 
ming and  graceful  diving  can  be  seen  to  good  advantage. 


THE  DAB  CHICK.  1^3 

Spreading  considerably  apart,  they  allow  themselves  plenty 
of  room.  How  the  ripples,  started  by  their  breasts,  enlarge 
like  arcs  of  circles  on  the  glassy  surface,  and  intersecting 
each  other,  move  on  increasingly  to  the  shore.  In  quick  suc- 
cession they  glide  softly  under  the  water,  and  remain  for 
some  time,  no  doubt  taking  their  food  of  small  fishes  and 
aquatic  grasses.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  ease  and  graceful- 
ness with  which  they  dive,  so  tipping  under  the  water  as 
barely  to  ruffle  the  mirror-like  surface.  Presently  they 
reappear,  one  after  another,  shaking  their  heads,  and  look- 
ing this  way  and  that  as  if  to  make  sure  of  their  safety, 
but  still  swimming  well  out  of  the  water.  Gliding  along 
much  more  rapidly  than  Ducks,  they  describe  their  elegant 
curves  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  all  disappear  again. 
What  a  happy  family  they  are!  Should  they  take  alarm, 
using  their  wings  to  aid  in  swimming,  they  will  literally 
fly  under  water,  coming  up  a  long  distance  away,  and  so 
contracting  their  bodies  in  respiration,  and  thus  lessening 
their  specific  gravity,  as  barely  to  protrude  the  head  or  bill 
on  coming  up  to  breathe,  and  probably  in  a  few  minutes 
will  all  entirely  disappear  among  the  sedges  and  cat-tails. 
Though  easily  shot  when  not  on  the  lookout,  if  once  sus- 
picious of  danger  it  is  almost  impossible  to  capture  them, 
since  they  will  dive  between  the  flash  of  the  gun  and  the 
arrival  of  the  charge. 

How  does  any  bird  dare  to  set  out  on  the  immense  flights 
of  migration  with  such  tiny  wings!  They  might  serve  the 
same  purpose  as  the  fins  of  a  fish,  but  who  would  imagine 
them  at  all  sufficient  for  flight!  Indeed,  the  wing  of  the 
Grebe  is  a  compromise  between  a  wing  and  a  fin,  it  being 
the  smallest  wing  possible  for  flight  to  a  bird  of  its  size — 
and  what  a  mere  apology  for  a  tail  is  that  little  tuft 
of  hair — a  common  mark  of  all  the  Grebes.  The 


174  THE  DABCHICK. 

posterior  position  of  his  legs,  making  him  appear  in  stand- 
ing like  an  ancient  skin-bottle,  as  well  as  his  long  lobate 
toes,  clearly  shows  that  he  was  not  made  for  walking,  but  for 
swimming.  He  seems  to  understand  alike  his  weakness 
and  his  strength,  for  when  disturbed,  he  prefers  to  take  to 
the  water  rather  than  to  the  air — hence  that  common  but 
rather  profane  name  of  the  family — "Hell-divers." 

If  there  are  birds  which  seem  to  be  designed  to  live 
almost  entirely  in  the  air,  here  is  a  kind  evidently  designed 
to  live  almost  entirely  on  the  water.  Its  migrations  would 
seem  to  be  by  means  of  the  great  water-courses,  rather 
than  through  the  aerial  highways.  Its  food  is  taken  from 
the  water,  and  its  nest  is  a  floating  fabric. 

The  Grebes  belong  to  the  order  Pygopodes,  or  Diving  Birds, 
and  constitute  the  strongly  marked  family  Podicipidce. 
They  stand  next  to  the  Loons  which  they  resemble  quite 
strongly,  notwithstanding  many  minor  points  of  differ- 
ence, and  they  are  the  last  family  in  the  present  systems  of 
classification  of  birds.  The  breast-bone  is  very  firm,  and 
the  keel  is  large.  The  lower  region  of  the  bones  of  the 
back  has  the  same  keel-like  ridge  which,  to  receive  the 
immense  muscles  of  the  thigh,  is  so  noticeable  in  the  skeleton 
of  the  Loon.  The  legs  extend  backward,  and  are  joined 
by  strong  muscles  to  the  back,  to  secure  facility  in  diving, 
the  bird  kicking  upward  against  the  water  in  this  act.  The 
tarsi  are  almost  as  flat  as  a  knife-blade,  which  form  greatly 
aids  in  swimming,  as  it  affords  the  least  possible  resistance; 
the  feet  are  continuously  lobed,  and  more  or  less  joined  by 
a  web  at  the  bases  of  the  toes,  the  claws  on  the  latter  being 
flattened  like  human  toe-nails.  The  bill  is  generally  rather 
long  and  pointed.  The  eyes  are  far  forward,  with  a  bare 
space  in  front.  The  exquisite  coat  of  down  in  which  the 
young  appear  is  black,  elegantly  striped  with  white,  and 


THE  DABCHICK.  175 

marked  with  red  about  the  head.  In  most  species  the  color 
of  the  plumage  changes  greatly  with  the  season,  and  there 
is  a  conspicuous  ruff  or  ornament  about  the  head  of  the 
male  in  the  breeding  period.  The  plumage  of  the  under 
parts  has  a  peculiar  open  structure  and  a  satiny,  lustrous 
surface,  inducing  its  use  as  fur.  The  nesting  habits  of  the 
family  .are  similar  throughout. 

The  Dabchick  is  some  13.00  long.  The  bill,  which  is 
shorter  and  thicker  than  that  of  most  Grebes,  is  pale  blue, 
with  a  black  ring  around  the  part  perforated  by  the  nostril. 
The  upper  parts  are  dark  brown,  the  fore-neck  reddish,  belly 
white,  sides  grayish;  under  the  chin  there  is  a  black  spot  in 
spring,  the  only  distinguishing  mark  of  the  breeding  season. 
In  the  fall  this  last  mark  is  wanting,  and  the  young  have 
the  throat  white,  streaked  with  dark.  Late  in  the  fall  even 
the  young  are  much  smaller  than  the  parents. 

Having  had  my  attention  called  to  the  breeding  of  this 
species  at  St.  Clair  Flats  by  the  communications  in  the 
Oologist — now  Ornithologist  and  Oologist  —  by  Mr.  W. 
H.  Collins,  a  distinguished  taxidermist  of  Detroit,  I  gave 
the  matter  a  careful  investigation  when  visiting  that  place 
in  the  spring  of  1882.  The  nest,  built  up  from  the  bottom 
in  water  from  a  foot  to  eighteen  inches  deep,  to  several 
inches  above  the  water,  is  a  sort  of  pier,  sheltered  by  sedges, 
cat-tails  and  rushes;  and  though  stationary  as  thus  pro- 
tected, is  so  nearly  afloat  that  any  considerable  agitation  of 
the  water  will  rock  it  to  and  fro.  It  is  a  carefully-laid  pile 
of  soaked  and  decaying  rushes  of  former  years,  and  other 
decaying  matter  from  the  bottom,  with  a  good  deal  of  the 
larger  fresh  water  algae  mixed  in.  Cylindrical,  some 
18  inches  in  diameter,  and  symmetrically  rounded  at  the 
top,  and  having  a  slight  depression  for  the  eggs,  it  is  the 
wettest,  dirtiest,  nastiest  thing  to  be  conceived  of  in  the  way 


176  THE  DABCHICK. 

of  a  bird's  nest.  On  this  filthy  arrangement  are  placed 
some  six  or  eight  eggs,  about  1.25  x  -87,  white,  tinged 
or  waved  with  light  green,  the  surface  being  rather  rough 
or  granulated.  They  are  soon  soiled  from  contact  with  the 
nest.  The  birds  are  exceedingly  on  the  alert,  leaving  the  nest, 
and  partially  covering  the  eggs  with  the  wet  material,  and 
getting  entirely  out  of  sight  before  the  nest  is  discovered. 
On  examining  the  nest,  however,  there  can  be  no  doubt  as 
to  the  method  of  incubation.  The  eggs  are  quite  warm, 
and  there  is  nothing  in  the  condition  or  temperature  of  the 
nest  that  will  at  all  account  for  the  warmth.  The  newly 
hatched  young,  jet-black,  with  six  narrow,  white  stripes  over 
the  back  extending  up  on  the  neck,  and  red  or  reddish 
markings  about  the  head,  underneath  white,  bill  red,  and 
feet  black,  are  truly  beautiful;  and  so  keen  is  their  instinct 
of  fear  as  soon  as  they  are  out  of  the  shell,  that  they  will 
scramble  off  the  nest  and  hide  among  the  rushes  before  one 
can  detect  the  nest;  and  but  for  their  chicken-like  peeping, 
their  presence  would  not  be  suspected.  Meanwhile  the 
plaintive  whistle  of  the  parent  bird  may  be  heard  in  the 
vicinity,  now  here,  now  there,  but  seldom,  indeed,  does  she 
allow  herself  to  be  seen.  Now  ensconce  yourself  away  and 
remain  quiet  for  a  few  minutes,  and  this  mother  diver  will 
make  her  appearance,  looking  sharply  in  every  direction, 
and  softly  whistling  together  her  scattered  brood.  Well 
understanding  these  coaxing  notes,  the  little  ones  gather 
around  her  from  among  the  rushes  and  sedges,  and,  as  she 
swims  deeply,  mount  on  her  back  for  a  ride.  This  is  truly 
a  pretty  sight,  as  well  calculated  to  soften  the  heart  as  is 
the  cooing  of  the  Dove.  Occasionally  you  will  see  this  bird 
take  her  young  under  her  wings,  when  alarmed,  and  dive 
with  them,  the  little  ones  remaining  under  for  some  time, 
but  generally  coming  up  before  the  parent. 


TJfE  HORNED   GREBE.  177 

The  Dabchick  breeds -abundantly  about  St.  Clair  Flats, 
still  more  abundantly  to  the  northwest,  as  in  Northern  Min- 
nesota and  Dakota,  and  more  or  less,  indeed,  from  the 
northern  limits  of  the  Southern  States  to  the  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence;  and  though  its  winter  habitat  is  in  the  South- 
ern States,  it  has  been  found  in  midwinter  as  far  north  as 
Southern  New  England. 

THE    HORNED    GREBE. 

The  Horned  Grebe  (Podiceps  cornutus)  is  the  most  numer- 
ous member  of  its  family  in  this  locality  during  the  migra- 
tions. In  the  last  week  of  April  or  the  first  week  of  May,  it 
is  very  common  on  our  streams  and  ponds.  On  the  broad 
and  beautiful  current  of  Niagara  River,  below  the  gorge,  these 
birds  may  then  appear  in  flocks  of  hundreds;  and  their  sport- 
ing and  diving  is  a  sight  worth  seeing.  Now  they  are  all 
gliding  hither  and  thither  along  the  surface;  now  they  go 
down  in  rapid  succession  till  every  bird  is  under  water,  and 
again  they  come  up  as  quickly,  till  the  vast  number  is  once 
more  in  full  sight.  Now  the  male  expands  his  ruff  to  full 
effect,  giving  his  thus  greatly  enlarged  head,  set  off  with 
pointed  bill  and  red  eyes,  altogether  a  peculiar  appearance. 
Probably  all  the  Grebes  migrate  for  the  most  part  by  means 
of  the  great  water-courses,  and  so  depend  but  little  on  their 
rather  imperfect  powers  of  flight  in  this  great  emergency. 

In  the  early  days  of  spring,  as  the  Horned  Grebes  pass 
along  our  inland  water-courses,  it  is  so  common  to  see  them 
in  pairs  that  I  infer  they  must  mate  before  leaving  their 
winter  habitat. 

About   14.00    long,  wing  some  6.00,    bill    .75    and    quite 

slender  and  pointed,    the   male    has    the   crest    and   ruffs 

well   developed.     Very   dark   brown   above,    many   of   the 

feathers   generally   fringed   with  light  gray;  below  satiny 

12 


178  THE  HORNED   GREBE. 

white,  the  curved  secondaries  white;  the  black  head  and 
ruffs  with  a  yellowish-brown  tuft  or  horn  extending  from 
the  eye  to  the  back  of  the  head,  the  continuation  of  the 
same  in  front  of  the  eye  chestnut;  the  neck,  except  a  black 
strip  down  the  back,  chestnut  or  brownish-red;  sides  and 
flanks  brown  and  white  mixed.  The  female  is  similar,  with 
the  ruff  much  reduced,  and  the  colors  less  pure  and  bright. 

Concerning  the  breeding  of  this  species,  Dr.  Coues  says: 
"  I  found  it  breeding  at  various  points  in  Northern  Dakota, 
as  along  the  Red  River,  in  the  prairie  sloughs,  with  Coots, 
Phalaropes  and  various  Ducks,  and  in  pools  about  the  base 
of  Turtle  Mountain,  in  company  with  P.  calif ornicus  and  the 
Dabchick.  I  took  fresh  eggs  on  the  20th  of  June  at  Pem- 
bina,  finding  them  scattered  on  a  soaking  bed  of  decayed 
reeds,  as  they  had  doubtless  been  disturbed  by  the  hasty 
movements  of  the  parents  in  quitting  the  nest;  there  were 
only  four;  probably  more  would  have  been  laid.  They  are 
elliptical  in  shape,  with  little  or  no  difference  in  contour  at 
either  end;  dull  whitish,  with  a  very  faint  shade,  quite 
smooth,  and  measure  about  1.70  x  1-20.  On  Turtle  Moun- 
tain, late  in  July,  I  procured  newly-hatched  young,  swim- 
ming with  their  parents  in  the  various  pools.  At  this  early 
stage  the  neck  is  striped,  as  in  the  common  Dabchick." 

The  autumnal  dress  of  this  Grebe  is  so  different  from  that 
above  described  of  the  spring,  that  one  not  aware  of  the 
identity  of  the  bird  in  its  changed  habit  would  suppose  it  to 
be  another  species.  The  ruff  is  barely  indicated  by  a  slight 
lengthening  of  the  feathers  about  the  head,  while  the  back 
and  under  parts  are  nearly  as  in  spring;  the  crown,  back 
part  of  the  neck,  and  the  sides  are  a  sooty  gray;  the  chin, 
throat  and  sides  of  the  head,  white;  forepart  of  the  neck, 
light  ashy-gray.  Thus  clad,  they  appear  in  Western  New 
York  in  October,  sometimes  singly  or  in  small  numbers,  on 


THE  RED-NECKED   GREBE.  179 

streams  and  ponds,  sometimes  in  flocks  of  hundreds  along 
the  margin  of  Lake  Ontario,  or  on  other  large  bodies  of 
water.  In  their  autumnal  appearance  there  is  something 
particularly  chaste  and  elegant,  and  finely  in  harmony  with 
the  cold,  gray  surf  in  which  they  are  so  sprightly  and 
active. 

THE   CRESTED    GREBE. 

The  Crested  Grebe  (Podiceps  cristatus)  is  common  in  North 
America,  especially  in  the  more  northern  parts  of  the  conti- 
nent, and  is  also  abundant  in  Western  Europe.  It  is  much 
larger  than  either  of  those  above  described,  being  some 
24.00  long  and  about  33.00  in  extent.  The  ruff  on  the 
male  of  this  species  is  very  large,  and  the  crest,  looking  very 
much  like  two  horns,  is  very  conspicuous.  The  crown, 
crest  and  terminal  part  of  the  ruff  is  glossy  black;  base  of 
the  ruff  bright  reddish-brown;  fulvous  over  the  eye;  cheeks 
and  throat  silky  white;  back  of  the  neck  and  upper  parts, 
generally,  dark  brown,  the  feathers  edged  with  light-brown 
or  gray;  sides  of  the  body  reddish,  streaked  with  dusky; 
fore-neck,  and  under  parts,  pure  silky  white.  In  this  bright 
spring  plumage,  the  male,  with  his  long,  slender,  graceful 
neck,  is  a  truly  beautiful  object  on  the  water.  In  the 
autumn  the  crest  and  the  ruffs  are  absent,  and  the  head  and 
neck  are  of  the  same  continuous  plain  color.  This  species 
breeds  to  the  north,  and  is  said  to  construct  the  same  bulky, 
floating  nest,  tied  to  the  reeds  and  rushes,  as  the  rest  of  the 
family;  and  to  have  eggs  similar,  only  correspondingly 
larger. 

THE    RED-NECKED    GREBE. 

The  Red-necked  Grebe  (Podiceps  griseigena  var.  holbolli') 
is  also  found  in  North  America.  It  is  quite  a  little  less  in 
length  than  the  former,  being  only  19  inches,  but  it  is  more 
bulky,  and  its  bill  and  tarsi  are  much  shorter.  The  adult 


180  PINTAILS  AND    WIDGEONS. 

breeding  plumage  is  described  by  Dr.  Coues  as  follows: 
"  Crests  short  and  ruffs  scarcely  apparent.  Bill  black,  the 
tornia  of  the  upper  mandible  at  base  and  most  of  the  lower 
mandible  yellowish.  Crown  and  occiput  glossy  greenish- 
black;  back  of  the  neck  the  same,  less  intense,  and  the  upper 
parts  generally  the  same,  with  grayish  edgings  of  the 
feathers.  Wing-coverts  and  primaries  uniform  chocolate- 
brown,  the  shafts  of  the  latter  black.  Secondaries  white, 
mostly  with  black  shafts  and  brownish  tips.  Lining  of 
wings  and  axillars  white.  A  broad  patch  of  silvery-ash  on 
the  throat,  extending  around  on  sides  of  the  head,  whitening 
along  line  of  juncture  with  the  black  of  the  crown.  Neck, 
except  the  dorsal  line,  deep  brownish-red,  which  extends 
diluted  some  distance  on  the  breast.  Under  parts  silky 
white,  with  a  shade  of  silvery-ash,  each  feather  having  a 
dark  shaft-line  and  terminal  spot,  producing  a  peculiar 
dappled  appearance."  To  the  far  northwest  there  are  also 
the  Eared  Grebe  and  the  Western  Grebe. 

PINTAILS   AND    WIDGEONS. 

Before  entering  Lake  Ontario,  Johnson's  Creek  bends 
northward,  and  again  runs  but  a  little  north  of  westward, 
thus  entering  obliquely,  and  forming  a  narrow  point  of  land 
between  its  right  bank  and  the  lake.  This  point  is  for  the 
most  part  well  wooded,  as  is  also  a  considerable  part  of 
the  opposite  bank,  thus  making  a  fair  retreat  for  water- 
fowl in  their  migrations.  Here  the  creek  is  pretty  wide,  and 
its  surface  is  smooth.  As  I  sit  on  the  bank,  concealed  in 
the  bushes,  a  flock  of  some  dozen  Ducks  drops  into  the 
stream  a  distance  up,  but  near  enough  to  be  well  studied 
with  the  aid  of  a  glass.  They  are  Widgeons  (Mareca  amert- 
cana)  and  Pintails  (Dafila  acuta).  Both  are  beautiful  species 
of  our  fresh  waters,  and  are  frequently  seen  together,  when 


PINTAILS  AND    WIDGEONS.  181 

they  come  from  the  north  from  September  onward,  and 
again  when  they  return  to  their  breeding  grounds  in  spring, 
which  is  generally  during  April,  but  is  sometimes  as  late  as 
the  first  week  in  May.  Not  only  do  they  journey  together, 
but  they  continue  together,  and  also  in  company  with  the 
Teals  and  Mallards,  being  often  in  large  flocks  in  the  South- 
ern States  in  winter,  and  breeding  abundantly  together  in 
the  north,  especially  about  the  cedar  swamps  of  Hud- 
son's Bay,  and  the  lowlands  of  Milk  River  and  its  tribu- 
taries, as  also  through  Northern  Dakota  and  Montana 
generally.  In  the  first-named  locality  the  Pintail  is  said  to 
breed  the  most  abundantly  of  all  the  Ducks. 

This  species,  inclusive  of  the  long,  ornamental  feathers  in 
the  center  of  his  tail,  is  29.00  long,  and  his  extent  of  wings 
is  36.00;  bill  long  and  narrow;  neck  very  long  and  slender; 
head  a  glossy  dusky-brown  to  half-way  down  the  neck  in 
front,  the  centers  of  the  feathers  being  darker,  and  the 
whole  somewhat  tinged  with  violet  or  green  toward  the 
back  of  the  head;  front  of  the  lower  neck,  and  strips  up  the 
side  of  it  to  the  back  of  the  head,  white;  strip  down  the 
back  of  the  head  black,  becoming  gray  on  the  neck;  upper 
parts  of  a  general  grayish  or  dusky  effect,  the  dusky  feathers 
being  for  the  most  part  delicately  penciled  with  white;  the 
long-pointed  scapulars,  tertiaries  and  tail  feathers,  except  the 
two  long  black  ones  in  the  center,  black  or  dusky,  edged  or 
streaked  with  white  or  gray;  beauty  spot  green,  the  bar  in 
front  rich  olive,  that  behind  white;  under  parts  white, 
often  tinged  with  olive. 

The  female,  having  the  feathers  in  the  center  of  the  tail 
only  about  a  half-inch  longer  than  the  rest,  and  being 
otherwise  slightly  smaller  than  the  male,  is  but  22.00  long, 
with  some  34.00  extent  of  wing;  her  head  is  dark  brown,  her 
neck  dingy  white,  thickly  specked  with  brown;  the  dusky,  or 


182  PINTAILS  AND    WIDGEONS. 

blackish  of  the  upper  parts  is  marked  crosswise  with  brown- 
ish-white; breast  and  under  parts,  brownish-white,  marked 
with  white. 

On  the  still  waters  of  this  creek,  sheltered  on  both  sides 
by  the  woods,  this  Duck  is  well  at  home,  since  it  is  emphat- 
ically an  inland  species — frequenting  prairie  sloughs,  ponds 
and  rivers,  seldom  reaching  the  sea  coast  and  never  breed- 
ing with  the  Ducks  of  the  ocean  to  the  north.  What  a 
striking  object  of  beauty  is  that  male,  swimming  with  his 
breast  well  immersed  and  his  back  parts  thrown  up,  his 
elegant  tail  elevated  almost  to  the  perpendicular,  his  long, 
slender,  swan-like  neck  sinuating  most  gracefully  about  him, 
and  every  part  of  his  lengthy  and  finely-formed  body 
marked  and  colored  in  brilliant  contrasts!  The  Pintails, 
four  males  and  four  females,  separate  from  the  Widgeons, 
the  one  flock  going  to  one  side  of  the  creek  and  the  other 
to  the  opposite  side.  The  Pintails  swim  close  together,  and 
seek  their  food  in  the  shallow  margins.  They  do  not  dive 
so  as  to  disappear,  but,  immersing  their  head  and  breast, 
throw  up  their  feet  into  the  air.  They  are  no  doubt  in 
search  of  tadpoles,  for  which  they  labor  with  much  avidity 
in  spring.  As  they  raise  their  heads  above  water,  the 
males  occasionally  utter  a  rather  soft  and  musical  jabber, 
wholly  unlike  the  hoarse  squak  of  the  Mallard  or  the 
Dusky  Duck.  Discerning  no  object  of  danger,  and  feeling 
perfectly  at  home  in  this  retired  nook,  they  go  ashore  in  the 
edge  of  the  woods  and  turn  over  the  leaves  in  search  of 
snails,  insects,  and  the  beech-nuts  of  last  year,  scarcely 
sprouted  as  yet.  One  even  snaps  his  bill  at  a  passing  fly, 
while  another  captures  a  drowsy,  fluttering  moth,  just  abroad 
from  his  winter  quarters.  How  finely  they  walk  with  tails 
erect.  Ah!  they  have  taken  alarm,  and  rise  en  masse  on 
wing.  Were  I  within  range  of  shot  I  might  take  them  all 


PINTAILS  AND    WIDGEONS.  183 

with  the  contents  of  one  barrel,  so  closely  do  they  fly. 
Once  aloft  in  the  air  they  are  a  most  graceful  figure  in  the 
landscape;  their  full  length  of  neck,  body  and  tail,  with 
short  and  quiet  flap  of  the  wings,  giving  them  the  appear- 
ance of  a  volley  of  huge  arrows  against  the  clear  ether. 
What  could  awaken  more  pleasing  emotions  than  scenes 
like  these? 

Concerning  the  breeding  habitat  of  the  Pintail,  Dr.  Coues 
says:  "Although  I  have  not  recognized  it  in  the  Missouri 
region  proper  during  the  breeding  season,  yet  I  found  it  to 
be  one  of  the  commonest  of  the  various  Ducks  that  nest  in 
the  country  drained  by  the  Milk  River  and  its  tributaries 
throughout  most  of  the  northern  parts  of  Montana.  In 
traveling  through  that  country  in  July,  I  found  it  on  all  the 
prairie  pools  and  alkaline  lakes.  At  this  date  the  young 
were  just  beginning  to  fly,  in  most  instances,  while  the  old 
birds  were  for  the  most  part  deprived  of  flight  by  moulting 
of  the  quills.  Many  of  the  former  were  killed  with  sticks, 
or  captured  by  the  hand,  and  afforded  welcome  variation  of 
our  hard  fare.  On  invasion  of  the  grassy  or  reedy  pools 
where  the  Ducks  were,  they  generally  crawled  shyly  out 
upon  the  prairie  around,  and  there  squatted  to  hide,  so 
that  we  procured  more  from  the  dry  grass  surrounding  than 
in  the  pools  themselves.  I  have  sometimes  stumbled  <-hus 
upon  several  together,  crouching  as  close  as  possible,  and 
caught  them  all  in  my  hands." 

He  then  adds  from  Dr.  Dall  concerning  this  same  species: 
"  Extremely  common  in  all  parts  of  the  Yukon,  and  on  the 
marshes  near  the  sea  coast.  In  the  early  spring,  arriving  about 
May  1st,  at  Nulato,  it  is  gregarious;  but  as  soon  as  it  com- 
mences to  breed,  about  May  20th,  or  later,  they  are  gen- 
erally found  solitary  or  in  pairs.  Their  nest  is  usually  in 
the  sedge,  lined  with  dry  grass,  and,  in  the  absence  of  both 


184  PINTAILS  AND    WIDGEONS. 

parents,  is  covered  with  dry  leaves  and  feathers.         * 

They  lay  from  six  to  ten,  or  even  twelve  eggs, 
and  as  soon  as  the  young  are  hatched  they  withdraw  from 
the  river  to  the  small  creeks  and  rivulets,  where  they  remain 
until  the  ducklings  are  fully  able  to  fly,  when  all  repair  to 
the  great  marshes,  where,  on  the  roots  of  the  horse-tail 
(Equisetum),  they  grow  so  fat  that  frequently  they  cannot 
raise  themselves  above  the  water." 

It  is  further  added,  that  "a  nest-complement  of  seven 
eggs,  from  the  Yukon,  now  in  the  Smithsonian,  furnishes 
the  following  characters:  Size  2.10  x  1.50-2.30  x  1.55; 
shape,  rather  elongate  ellipsoidal;  color,  uniform  dull  gray- 
ish-olive, without  any  buff  or  creamy  shade." 

This  species  is  common  also  to  the  Old  World. 

Our  American  Widgeon,  or  Baldpate,  though  very  simi- 
lar in  size,  form,  and  marking  to  that  of  Europe,  is  still 
specifically  different.  Some  22  inches  long  and  30  in  extent, 
the  bill  is  slate-color,  the  nail  black;  the  crown  creamy, 
sometimes  almost  white;  cheeks  and  neck  the  same,  specked 
and  spotted  with  black;  patch  from  around  the  eye  to  the 
nape,  including  the  pendent  crest,  glossy  green;  line  down 
the  back  of  the  neck,  the  breast  and  sides,  vinous  or  purp- 
lish-brown— the  tips  of  the  feathers  somewhat  hoary  and 
the  sides  cross-penciled  with  wavy  lines  of  black;  belly, 
white;  crest,  black;  back  and  scapulars,  vinous  bay,  ele- 
gantly crossed  with  wavy  lines  of  black;  lower  back,  pri- 
maries, and  tail,  the  central  feathers  of  which  are  elongated, 
dusky;  speculum  velvety  black,  with  a  cross-line  of  glossy 
green  next  to  the  coverts  which  are  white,  the  greater  ones 
tipped  with  black  and  bounded  with  gray  above;  the  outer 
web  of  the  elongated  tertiaries  velvety — black  edged  with 
white;  under  tail-coverts  black,  contrasting  strongly  with 
the  white  vent. 


PINTAILS  AND    WIDGEONS.  185 

The  female  has  the  head  and  neck  brownish- white,  thickly 
specked  and  streaked  with  black;  back  and  scapulars,  dusky- 
brown,  the  feathers  edged  with  drab  or  light  reddish- 
brown,  those  on  the  back  elegantly  waved  with  narrow 
lines  of  chestnut-red;  wing  dusky,  speculum  and  coverts 
edged  with  white;  the  purplish-brown  of  the  breast  some- 
what as  in  the  male,  but  lighter,  and  mixed  with  dusky; 
under  parts  like  the  male,  except  the  tail--coverts,  which  are 
white  and  brown-spotted. 

This  bird  has  the  habits  of  our  fresh-water  Ducks  in  gen- 
eral, spending  the  winter  on  the  rivers,  streams,  bays,  lakes, 
ponds,  and  flooded  fields  of  the  Southern  States;  it  feeds  on 
rice,  grains,  the  seeds  of  grasses,  roots,  aquatic  insects, 
mast,  and  small  fry.  Whether  on  the  land  or  on  the  water 
it  is  a  beautiful  and  graceful  object.  On  the  wing  it  is 
direct  and  swift,  having  the  whistling  stroke  more  or  less 
common  to  its  near  allies.  Swimming  or  flying,  the  flocks 
move  compactly,  and  so  afford  a  good  sight  to  the  marks- 
man. 

The  Widgeon  may  tarry  with  us  till  well  on  in  April,  and 
returns  again  from  the  north  early  in  Septernber,  and 
may  be  seen  through  October.  Pairing  before  starting  for 
its  breeding  grounds,  it  has  a  soft,  whistling  or  flute  note  — 
szwee,  szwee. 

Concerning  its  nidification,  Dr.  Coues  says:  "The 
Widgeon  breeds  in  abundance  in  Northern  Dakota  and 
Montana,  along  the  banks  of  the  streams  and  pools.  Some 
such  places  which  I  visited,  the  resort  of  many  pairs  of 
various  Ducks  during  the  breeding  season,  and  of  innumer- 
able flocks  during  the  migrations,  resemble  the  duck-yard 
of  a  farm,  in  the  quantities  of  moulted  feathers  and  amount 
of  ordure  scattered  everywhere.  I  was  surprised  to  find  young 
Widgeons  still  unable  to  fly,  even  as  late  as  the  middle  of 


186  THE   SCAUP  DUCK. 

September,  at  a  time  when  all  the  other  Ducks  observed 
were  well  on  the  wing.  Although  this  bird  passes  far  north, 
many  nest  in  various  parts  of  the  United  States.  Audubon 
notices  its  breeding  in  Texas,  and  others  in  the  Middle 
States,  about  the  Great  Lakes,  and  in  Oregon.  Mr.  Dall 
found  it  nesting  along  the  Yukon  with  the  Pintail."  The 
Widgeon's  eggs  are  8-12,  2.00  x  1.50,  pale  buff. 

THE    SCAUP   DUCK. 

On  the  16th  I  go  about  two  miles  westward  along  the 
lake  shore  in  company  with  a  friend  to  a  place  where  a 
small  stream  enters  the  lake  through  a  low  tract  of  land, 
and,  as  the  mouth  is  frequently  closed  with  the  stones  and 
gravel  thrown  up  by  the  waves,  the  waters  thus  obstructed 
form  a  large  irregular  pond,  and  afford  a  resort  for  Ducks, 
spring  and  fall.  As  we  approach  this  pond  we  discover  a 
flock  of  some  half-dozen  Scaup  Ducks  (Fuligula  marila), 
swimming  in  a  line,  near  the  farther  bank.  In  the  act  of 
swimming  the  white  feathers  of  the  sides  are  thrown  up 
over  the  wings,  so  that  the  males  appear  white  with  black 
heads.  How  rapidly  and  gracefully  they  move! 

Scrambling  along  almost  on  hands  and  knees  we  pass  to 
the  other  side  on  a  ridge  of  small  stones  and  gravel  now 
thrown  across  the  narrow  mouth  of  the  pond,  and  follow 
a  depression  behind  the  opposite  bank,  thus  coming  within 
short  range  of  the  Ducks  without  being  seen.  We  rise  and 
fire,  and  only  kill  one  Duck,  which  neither  of  us  can  claim 
with  certainty.  The  rest  of  the  flock  fly  out  over  the  lake, 
which  is  lashed  into  fury  by  the  wind,  and  instantly  return 
to  see  what  is  become  of  the  missing  one. 

The  Scaup  Duck,  Black-head,  or  Blue-bill  — for  it  is 
known  by  all  these  common  names  —  is  16  or  17  inches  in 
length,  rather  short  and  flat-bodied,  with  an  unusually 


THE   SCAUP  DUCK.  187 

broad  bill  of  a  clear  light-blue;  the  male  has  the  head, 
neck,  shoulders,  and  breast  black,  with  soft  reflections  of 
green  and  violet  on  the  head  and  upper  part  of  the  neck,  with 
a  tendency  to  a  broad,  brown  ring  around  the  lower  part  of 
the  neck;  back  white,  crossed  by  broad  zigzag  lines  of  black; 
rump,  tail,  and  wings  black,  the  latter  with  reflections  of  green, 
and  having  the  secondaries  white,  tipped,  and  slightly  edged 
with  black;  tertiaries,  and  shoulders  finely  sprayed  with 
white;  under  parts  and  sides  white,  the  latter  delicately 
touched  with  gray.  The  female,  having  a  broad,  white 
mark  at  the  base  of  the  upper  mandible,  has  the  entire 
upper  parts  grayish-brown,  lighter  about  the  head,  neck, 
and  breast;  the  ends  of  the  feathers  on  the  back  sometimes 
delicately  sprayed  with  white,  or  silvery  gray;  under  parts 
white.  The  young  males,  resembling  the  females,  may  be 
found  in  all  stages  between,  as  they  approximate  maturity. 
The  Scaup  dives  well  for  its  food,  a  flock  thus  engaged 
affording  a  lively  sight.  They  are  by  no  means  so  shy  as 
some  of  their  kind;  and,  on  being  put  up,  do  not  generally 
fly  far  before  alighting. 

This  Duck,  common  to  the  whole  northern  hemisphere,  is 
found  alike  on  fresh  and  salt  waters,  and  is  very  common  in 
this  locality  during  migration.  They  appear  on  Niagara 
River  in  great  flocks  in  the  migrations,  especially  in  April. 
Then  they  keep  for  the  most  part  to  certain  feeding  grounds, 
and  have  a  peculiar  way  of  huddling  together,  with  a 
swarming  motion  which  marks  them  from  other  Ducks 
even  in  the  distance,  and  in  some  places  has  given  them  the 
name  Flocking  Fowl.  As  they  rise  from  the  water,  their 
thick  heads,  short  necks,  and  short,  plump  bodies,  as  also 
the  plover-like  markings  in  their  wings,  clearly  distinguish 
them.  Like  the  following,  they  remain  on  Niagara  during 
severe  winters.  Mr.  Maynard  reports  them  as  particularly 


188  THE  BUFFLE-HEADED  DUCK. 

abundant  in  Florida  during  winter,  "  fairly  swarming  on  the 
St.  Johns  and  Indian  rivers,  gathering  in  such  large  and 
compact  flocks,  especially  at  night,  that  they  are  called 
Raft  Ducks.  In  rising  from  the  water,  at  such  times,  they 
make  a  noise  like  thunder.  The  earlier  American  ornitholo- 
gists were  aware  of  a  great  difference  in  the  size  of  different 
Scaups  in  this  country,  and  the  later  writers  have  separated 
them  into  two  species,  on  account  of  this  disparity  in  size. 
The  specific  name  of  the  smaller  kind  is  Affinis.  Both  kinds 
seem  to  have  about  the  same  distribution  on  this  continent. 
They  breed  in  British  America  and  in  Alaska,  the  nest  being 
"very  rude,  a  mere  excavation  with  a  few  sticks  about  it." 
The  nest  has  been  found,  however,  on  St  Clair  Flats,  and 
there  is  a  rumor  that  this  species  breeds  regularly  in  the 
marshes  along  the  south  side  of  Lake  Superior.  Dr.  Coues 
found  them  breeding  in  large  numbers  along  the  Upper 
Missouri  and  Milk  River.  The  eggs,  from  1.60  x  2.25  to 
1.65  x  2.30,  are  said  to  be  ashy-green  in  color,  of  a  dark 
tint  peculiar  to  the  species. 

THE    BUFFLE-HEADED    DUCK. 

Stealthily  approaching  the  stream  a  little  above  the  pond 
a  few  hours  later,  we  discover  a  pair  of  Buffle-heads  (Buce- 
phala  albeola),  male  and  female,  riding  most  gracefully  down 
the  current.  Previous  to  seeing  the  male  of  this  species  on 
the  water,  I  could  not  conceive  the  propriety  of  one  of  its 
common  names,  "Spirit  Duck";  but  so  graceful  is  the 
puffed  plumage  of  the  head  and  neck,  and  so  striking  is  the 
contrast  of  jet-black  and  snow-white,  that  on  beholding  the 
male  float  lightly,  like  a  beautiful  apparition,  on  the  glassy 
surface  of  some  pond  or  stream,  one  feels  that  the  name  is 
really  descriptive. 

Buffle-head,  or  Butter-ball,  is  some  14  inches  long.     The 


THE  BUFFLE-HEADED  DUCK.  189 

head,  excepting  the  broad,  white  band  extending  from  behind 
eyes  around  the  back  of  the  head  and  upper  part  of  the  neck, 
including  the  long  thick  feathers  of  the  latter,  is  black,  with 
green  and  purple  reflections;  the  back,  tail,  and  greater  part 
of  the  wings  are  black;  remaining  parts  white.  The  female, 
which  is  still  smaller,  and  destitute  of  the  puffed  plumage 
peculiar  to  the  head  and  neck  of  the  male,  has  the  entire 
upper  parts  black,  becoming  ash  on  the  breast  and  white 
underneath,  and  has  a  white  mark  on  the  sides  of  the  head 
and  in  the  wings. 

A  little  while  afterward  I  saw  on  Johnson's  Creek  a  beau- 
tiful male  in  company  with  some  half-dozen  females.  This 
is  one  of  the  commonest  of  our  fresh-water  Ducks.  They 
are  most  common  in  April  and  October.  During  the  former 
month  they  are  quite  common,  in  small  flocks,  on  Niagara 
River.  As  a  few  remain  in  the  State  (New  York)  during 
winter,  they  are  sometimes  found  on  this  rapid,  open 
current  during  the  coldest  weather,  probably  being 
excluded  at  such  times  from  the  more  quiet  water-courses 
by  the  ice.  It  is  a  most  expert  and  graceful  diver,  the 
male  holding  his  crest  closely  before  plunging.  It  is, 
indeed,  a  pleasing  entertainment  to  watch  a  half-dozen  of 
these  Ducks  —  they  never  go  in  large  flocks  —  diving  in  some 
open  space  among  the  great  drives  of  ice-cakes  along  the 
shore.  The  young  have  been  taken  on  the  lakes  of  the 
Adirondack  Mountains;  but  as  "  it  usually  retires  to  high  lati- 
tudes to  breed,  as  along  the  Yukon  and  elsewhere  in  boreal 
America,  its  nidification  is  not  generally  known.  A  set  of  14 
eggs  taken,  the  accompanying  label  states,  from  a  feathery 
nest  in  a  dead  poplar,  some  distance  from  the  ground,  fur- 
nishes the  following  description:  Shape,  perfectly  ellipsoidal; 
size,  slightly  over  2  inches  in  length  by  1^£  in  breadth; 
color,  a  peculiar  tint,  just  between  rich  creamy-white  and 


190  THE  RED-BREASTED  MERGANSER. 

grayish-olive,  unvaried  by  markings.  Other  eggs  are 
described  as  being  \2/z  long  by  1^  broad,  and  buff-colored." 
(Coues). 

Not  being  as  shy  as  some  Ducks,  and  flying  rather  low, 
this  elegant  little  species  may  be  taken  with  tolerable  ease. 

As  it  lives  largely  on  mollusks  and  small  crustaceans, 
its  flesh  is  not  the  most  savory. 

THE    RED-BREASTED    MERGANSER. 

As  I  point  my  glass  out  over  the  great  lake,  lashed  into 
fury  by  a  strong  northeast  wind,  I  see  a  large  flock  of  Red- 
breasted  Mergansers  or  Shell-drakes  (Mergus  serrator]  beat- 
ing their  way  against  the  wind,  and  flying  low  over  the 
cold,  gray  waters.  As  they  skim  the  water  in  the 
distance,  their  long,  slender  head  and  neck,  as  well  as  the 
narrowness  of  their  form  in  general,  clearly  mark  their 
identity.  Common  both  to  Europe  and  North  America, 
this  species  is  with  us  in  large  numbers  in  late  autumn  and 
early  spring,  remaining  during  winter  if  the  waters  are 
sufficiently  open.  This  is  one  of  the  most  abundant  species 
on  the  Niagara  during  April  and  the  early  part  of  May. 
Their  long,  slender,  graceful  figure,  and  the  bright  marking 
of  the  males,  render  them  very  conspicuous  both  on  the 
water  and  in  flight.  On  the  water  they  are  particularly 
proud  and  graceful,  swimming  lightly  and  swiftly,  holding 
their  heads  high,  and  their  long,  loose  crests  playing  in  the 
wind.  They  seem  to  be  paired  on  their  arrival,  the  mates 
generally  keeping  with  each  other  even  in  the  largest  flocks. 
The  males,  however,  are  quite  inclined  to  turn  aside 
occasionally,  and  give  attention  to  other  females  than  their 
own.  At  such  times,  as  also  when  addressing  their  mates, 
they  have  a  peculiar  motion  of  the  head  and  body.  The 
male  will  approach  the  female,  and  stretch  up  his  neck, 


THE  RED-BREASTED  MERGANSER.  191 

raising  the  fore  part  of  his  body  out  of  the  water,  and, 
plunging  forward,  will  make  a  low  bow  with  a  peculiar  jerk 
of  the  head,  expanding  his  red  gape  wide  open,  and  lifting 
his  tongue  in  a  very  noticeable  manner.  Feeding  mostly 
on  small  fishes,  these  Mergansers  dive  readily  and  deeply, 
seeming  to  prefer  rapid  currents,  against  which  they  "  hold 
their  own  "  for  hours  while  fishing. 

Always  partial  to  fresh  waters,  it  bred  in  many  parts  of 
our  Middle  and  Eastern  States,  in  Audubon's  time,  he 
having  found  on  two  occasions  the  female  in  charge  of  her 
brood  in  the  lower  parts  of  Kentucky.  It  still  breeds  com- 
monly from  Northern  New  England  and  the  upper  regions 
of  the  Great  Lakes,  through  New  Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia, 
the  Magdalen  Islands,  Labrador,  Newfoundland,  etc.  It 
breeds  sparingly  throughout  the  great  Northwest  Territory, 
but  Mr.  Fortiscue  does  not  record  it  from  Hudson's  Bay. 
The  nests  are  placed  on  small  islands  in  large  bodies  of 
fresh  water,  or  near  fresh  water  ponds,  and  along  the 
margins  of  streams,  in  the  tall  grass  or  sedges,  or  under  low 
bushes.  Thus  unlike  the  other  Mergansers,  which  build  for 
the  most  part  in  holes  in  trees,  this  species  nests  on  the  ground. 
The  nest  is  made  like  that  of  a  Duck — and  Ducks'  nests  in 
general  are  very  much  alike — and,  like  it,  accumulates 
quite  a  quantity  of  down  as  incubation  proceeds.  The  eggs, 
6-12,  but  sometimes  as  many  as  18,  are  about  2.55  X  1.72, 
oval,  with  strong  and  smoothly-polished  shells,  and  of  a 
greenish-brown  tint.  They  are  generally  deposited  from 
the  middle  of  May  to  the  middle  of  June  or  later,  according 
to  latitude.  The  young,  elegant,  little  brown  creatures,  with 
white  or  grayish-white  under  parts,  make  for  the  water  at 
once,  and  dive  and  swim  with  the  utmost  readiness. 

"At  the  approach  of  autumn  they  resemble  the  old 
females;  but  the  sexes  can  easily  be  distinguished  by  exam- 


192  THE  RED-BREASTED  MERGANSER. 

ining  the  unguis  or  extremity  of  the  upper  mandible,  which 
will  be  found  to  be  white  or  whitish  in  the  males,  and  red 
or  reddish  in  the  females.  The  young  males  begin  to 
assume  the  spring  dress  in  the  beginning  of  February,  but 
they  do  not  acquire  their  full  size  and  beauty  until  the 
second  year."  (Audubon.) 

The  male  of  this  species  is  24  inches  long,  with  bill  car- 
mine; head,  crest  and  upper  part  of  the  neck  black,  with  a 
green  gloss;  the  rest  of  the  neck  white,  with  a  black  line 
adown  from  the  crest;  upper  part  of  the  back  velvety  black, 
lower  part  of  the  back  and  upper  tail  coverts  an  elegant  gray, 
delicately  penciled  with  black  and  white;  wings  and  scapular 
black,  finely  marked  with  white;  breast  above  a  light  chest- 
nut-red, mixed  with  black;  under  parts  white.  He  is  truly 
beautiful.  The  female,  having  a  less  perfect  crest  than  the 
male,  is  brown  or  brownish-ash  above,  the  feathers  edged 
with  lighter;  the  sides  of  the  head  and  neck  reddish;  the 
secondaries  and  greater  wing  coverts  white,  thin  dark  bases, 
forming  dark  bands  on  the  wing;  the  under  parts  are  white, 
the  breast  being  tinged  with  gray;  the  iris  is  red,  and  the 
feet  and  bill  are  nearly  so. 

As  is  the  case  with  other  Mergansers,  the  male  of  this 
species  has  a  curious  enlargement  and  modification  of  the 
wind-pipe,  the  final  cause  of  which  seems  difficult  to  explain. 

In  the  more  easterly  migrations,  and  also  in  the  breeding 
habitat  above  designated,  the  Red-breast  is  much  more 
common  than  the  rest  of  the  Mergansers. 

The  long,  slender,  cylindrical,  retrorse-toothed  bill  of  the 
Mergansers,  commonly  called  Fish  Ducks,  distinguishes  the 
group  clearly  from  the  Ducks  proper.  Their  diet  also  is 
more  exclusively  fishy,  thus  rendering  their  flesh  unsavory. 
Their  long,  slender  bodies,  and  the  hindward  position  of 
their  feet,  specially  adapt  them  to  the  pursuit  of  their  prey 


THE  RING-NECKED  DUCK.  193 

under  water.  The  group  contains  only  eight  species  the 
world  over.  They  are  mostly  in  the  northern  hemisphere, 
some  two  species  having  been  found  in  South  America. 
The  beautiful  Smew  or  White  Nun  of  Europe  is  only  acci- 
dental in  America. 

THE    RING:NECKED    DUCK. 

On  my  return  from  Lake  Ontario,  I  find  that  a  friend  has 
shot  a  pair  of  Ring-necked  Ducks  (Fuligula  collaris)  on  the 
New  York  and  Erie  Canal.  This  species,  which  is  peculiar 
to  North  America,  is  a  rather  rare  migrant  in  Western 
New  York,  as  also  in  the  central  parts  of  the  State,  and  to 
the  eastward  generally.  In  size  and  shape,  including  even 
the  shape  of  the  bill,  it  is  very  nearly  related  to  the  Scaups. 
In  color,  also,  the  females  of  the  Scaups  and  Ring-neck  are 
very  similar,  both  being  of  a  light  brown,  and  white  under- 
neath. The  former  can  readily  be  distinguished,  however, 
by  her  white  band  at  the  base  of  the  upper  mandible,  while 
the  latter  has  the  white  band  only  at  the  base  of  the  lower 
mandible.  The  male  of  the  Ring-neck  is  distinguishable 
from  that  of  the  Scaup  by  the  dark  brown  of  the  entire 
upper  parts;  by  his  gray  speculum,  his  chestnut  ring  around 
the  middle  of  the  neck,  but  more  particularly  by  the  two 
almost  white  rings  around  the  dark  bill,  the  one  at  the  base 
and  the  other  near  the  tip.  The  Ring-neck  bears  a  close 
resemblance  to  the  Tufted  Duck  of  Europe,  and  for  some 
time  was  supposed  to  be  the  same.  Rising  readily  out  of 
the  water,  it  flies  rapidly  and  high,  producing  a  whistling 
sound  with  its  wings.  Not  appearing  in  large  flocks,  only 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  being  seen  together  at  a  time,  they 
fly  rather  scattered,  and  so  afford  but  a  poor  mark  to  the 
slaughterer.  Diving  for  their  food  after  the  manner  of  the 
Scaups,  they  subsist  on  crays,  small  fishes,  snails,  frogs, 
13 


194  THE  BARN  SWALLOW. 

aquatic  insects,  and  roots  and  seeds  of  grasses.  When 
feeding  along  ponds  and  streams,  they  become  fat,  tender 
and  luscious.  Very  little  seems  to  be  known  of  this  Duck's 
breeding  habits,  the  single  brood  found  in  Maine,  and  the 
single  nest  of  eggs  reported  from  New  Brunswick,  being 
regarded  as  stray  cases.  Mr.  Fortiscue  does  not  report  it 
from  Hudson's  Bay;  reports  from  the  great  northwest  ter- 
ritory do  not  mention  it,  and  Dr.  Coues  is  silent  as  to  its 
breeding  in  the  northwestern  States  and  Territories. 

In  1876,  May  27th,  the  nest  was  found  by  Thos.  S.  Roberts, 
of  Minneapolis,  Minn.,  in  Hennepin  County,  about  eight, 
miles  from  the  city.  It  was  pretty  substantially  built  and 
well  finished,  on  the  top  of  a  pile  of  rotten  debris — perhaps 
the  remains  of  an  old  muskrat-house — and  was  lined  with 
fine  grasses,  with  a  little  moss  intermixed,  and  a  neat  trim- 
ming of  down.  The  nine  eggs,  some  2.23X1.60,  were 
smooth,  and  "of  a  light  greenish-white  color." 

THE    BARN   SWALLOW. 

On  the  19th  of  April  I  observe  the  first  Barn  Swallows 
(Hirundo  horreorwri).  About  4.50  long,  this  swallow  is 
readily  distinguishable  from  any  other  by  its  extensively 
forked  tail,  and  by  building  its  nest  inside  of  the  barn  on 
the  sides  of  beams  and  rafters;  and  is  so  well  known  to  every 
one,  as  scarcely  to  need  description  or  historical  record. 
Who  is  not  familiar  with  its  swift,  sailing  flight,  the  widely 
spread  tail,  its  manner  of  gliding  in  through  open  doors  or 
windows,  or  the  small,  diamond-shaped  opening  in  the 
gable  of  the  old-fashioned  barn  ?  Lustrous  steel-blue  above, 
which  color  extends  down  the  sides  of  the  breast  in  the 
form  of  an  imperfect  collar;  belly,  reddish  white;  breast  and 
forehead,  chestnut,  he  is  differentiated  from  the  Cliff  or 
Eave  Swallow,  not  only  by  the  furcate  tail,  but  also  by  the 


THE  BARN  SWALLOW.  195 

white  spots  in  the  inner  web  of  the  tail  feathers,  thus  form- 
ing a  sort  of  sub-marginal  band,  and  by  the  absence  of  the 
white  spot  on  the  forehead,  from  which  is  no  doubt  de- 
rived the  specific  name  of  Lunifrons,  given  in  identification 
of  the  other. 

Sometime  in  the  latter  half  of  May  the  Barn  Swallow's 
nest  of  mud,  lined  with  straw,  feathers,  etc.,  is  built — un- 
less, as  is  frequently  the  case,  the  same  birds  return  to  the 
uninjured  nest  of  the  previous  year — and  four  or  five  eggs, 
some  .75  x  -55  of  an  inch,  white,  specked  with  brown,  are 
laid.  In  due  time,  the  full-fledged  young  are  seen  perched 
in  a  row  on  the  edge  of  the  half-bowl  nest,  the  free  brim  of 
which  is  strikingly  different  from  the  jug-nose  entrance  to 
the  nest  of  the  Have  Swallow.  This  row  of  younglings, 
often  occupying  the  entire  edge  of  the  nest  as  they  sit  with 
tails  inward,  are  exceedingly  noisy  on  the  appearance  of  the 
industrious  parents,  and  swallow  eagerly  the  food  deposited 
in  their  wide-open  mouths  by  the  parent  bird  as  she  hovers 
in  front  of  the  nest.  I  wonder  if  the  capacious  mouth  and 
gullet  of  the  Swallow,  so  convenient  for  taking  its  insect 
prey  on  the  wing,  did  not  procure  for  it  its  common  name  ! 
It  would  seem  altogether  probable,  though  I  cannot  find 
anything  on  the  point  in  either  dictionaries  or  works  on 
ornithology.  Every  part  of  the  world  has  its  Swallow  or 
Swallows  of  some  kind,  and  every  species  of  this  family  is 
noted  for  that  peculiar  twitter,  so  strikingly  conversational, 
that  the  Greeks  applied  the  name  of  the  Swallow  as  an 
epithet  to  designate  the  jargon  of  barbarian  tongues.  Listen 
to  those  prolonged  twitterings  of  the  Barn  Swallow's  family 
in  the  nest,  and  afterward  about  the  beams  and  rafters  of 
the  barn,  and  agarn  as  several  families  perch  in  long  rows 
on  the  telegraph  wires,  previous  to  migration !  Do  they 
not  sound  like  veritable  sentences  of  some  unknown  Ian- 


196  THE  ROUGH-LEGGED  HAWK. 

guage,  uttered  with  great  spirit,  and  intermixed  with  strains 
of  merry  laughter?  Already  in  the  olden  times  Virgil 
noted  the  "Swallow's  twitter  on  the  chimney-tops."  Bry- 
ant, of  our  own  times,  sings  of  "  the  gossip  of  Swallows 
through  all  the  sky;"  and  Tennyson  tells  how  the  Swallows 
"chirp  and  twitter  twenty  million  loves." 

The  Barn  Swallow  sometimes  raises  a  second  brood  in 
late  June  or  early  July.  Mr.  Burroughs  says:  "A  friend 
tells  me  of  a  pair  of  Barn  Swallows  which,  taking  a  fanciful 
turn,  saddled  their  nest  in  the  loop  of  a  rope  that  was  pen- 
dent from  a  peg  in  the  peak,  and  liked  it  so  well  that  they 
repeated  the  experiment  next  year." 

This  American  Swallow  occupies  North  and  Middle  Amer- 
ica to  the  arctics,  and  spends  the  winter  in  the  West  Indies. 
There  is  a  closely-allied  variety,  probably  of  the  same  spe- 
cies, Erythrogaster<  in  South  America. 

THE    ROUGH-LEGGED    HAWK. 

About  the  middle  or  twentieth  of  April,  sailing  low  and 
slow  over  some  wet  field  or  marsh,  or  along  some  streamlet, 
much  resembling  both  in  size  and  movement  the  Red-tailed 
Hawk,  but  readily  distinguished  by  the  large  amount  of 
white  in  his  expanded  wings  and  tail,  and  plumage  gener- 
ally, we  occasionally  see  the  Rough-legged  Buzzard  or 
Hawk  (Archibuteo  lagopus).  It  is  simply  a  passenger  to  the 
north,  breeding,  as  is  supposed,  entirely  beyond  the  Union; 
returning  to  us  again  about  the  last  of  October  or  the  first 
of  November,  and  wintering  farther  south,  in  the  seaward 
portions  of  the  Middle  and  Southern  States,  but  not  beyond. 
As  a  passenger,  it  is  by  no  means  rare  here. 

The  male  about  20.00  and  the  female  about  22.00 
long,  this  species,  common  to  both  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica, is  always  to  be  determined  by  its  thickly-feathered 


THE  ROUGH-LEGGED  HAWK,  197 

tarsus.  Above,  the  feathers  are  a  deep,  rich  brown,  edged 
for  the  most  part  with  light-red  and  whitish;  feathers  of 
the  head  and  neck,  yellowish-white,  with  a  streak  of  brown 
in  the  center;  breast,  femoral  and  tarsul  feathers,  yellowish 
or  buff,  sometimes  white;  tail,  toward  the  base,  including 
under  coverts,  white,  dark-brown  toward  the  tip.  It  is 
characterized  by  a  broad  abdominal  band  of  rich  dark- 
brown,  forming  a  beautiful  apron.  In  the  more  easterly 
part  of  its  habitat,  our  American  Rough-leg  shades  into  a 
beautiful  dark  variety,  Sancti-johannis,  often  called  the 
Black  Hawk. 

This  bird  is  particularly  drowsy  in  its  habits,  resting  mo- 
tionless for  a  long  time  on  its  perch,  preferring  to  take  its 
low  flight  in  dark  days,  or  in  the  evening  twilight.  Accord- 
ing to  Sir  John  Richardson,  it  "  is  often  seen  sailing  over 
swampy  pieces  of  ground,  and  hunting  for  its  prey  by  the 
subdued  daylight,  which  lightens  even  the  midnight  hours 
in  the  high  parallels  of  latitude."  This  habit,  as  also  Its 
thickly  feathered  tarsus,  reminds  one  of  the  Owls.  Its  bill 
of  fare  is  given  as  consisting  of  field-mice  and  other  very 
small  quadrupeds,  lizards,  frogs,  even  insects,  and  rarely 
birds.  On  the  second  day  of  last  November,  one  of  these 
Hawks  killed  a  domestic  fowl  straying  in  the  field  in  this 
vicinity.  Immediately  a  trap  was  set,  baited  with  the  re- 
mains of  the  hen,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  Hawk  was 
caught  by  the  foot. 

The  nest  of  this  species,  built  of  sticks,  is  placed  in  tall 
trees,  sometimes  on  cliffs.  Its  three  or  four  eggs,  2.33  X  1.75, 
are  dull-white  or  creamy,  smirched  or  blotched  with  brown. 

Wilson,  who  found  these  Hawks  numerous  in  winter,  below 
Philadelphia,  between  the  Schuylkill  and  the  Delaware,  re- 
ports them  as  making  a  "loud  squealing  "  as  they  arose  on 
being  disturbed,  "something  resembling  the  neighing  of  a 


198  THE   SAVANNA    SPARROW. 

young  colt,  though  in  a  more  shrill  and  savage  tone."  Cooper 
also  speaks  of  their  calling  to  each  other  with  a  "loud 
scream." 

THE    SAVANNA    SPARROW. 

From  the  15th  to  the  20th  of  April,  the  Savanna  Sparrow 
(Passerculus  savanna]  arrives  in  these  parts,  and  is  an 
abundant  resident  until  late  in  October  or  early  in  No- 
vember. About  5.50  long,  with  the  common  marking 
of  the  Sparrows  above,  white  beneath,  breast  thickly  spotted 
in  streaks,  this  is  one  of  the  lighter  colored  Sparrows,  and  is 
always  distinguishable  by  means  of  its  yellow  streak  over 
the  eye  and  yellowish  wash  on  the  cheeks,  combined  with 
the  spotted  breast,  none  other  of  our  Sparrows  having  both 
of  these  characters.  It  has  also  a  little  yellow  on  the  edge  of 
the  shoulder  of  the  wing.  In  its  colors  and  markings  gen- 
erally it  resembles  the  Bay-winged  Sparrow  in  the  distance, 
but  is  readily  differentiated  by  its  smaller  size,  and  the  absence 
ofc  the  white  in  the  outside  feathers  of  the  tail.  It  has  the  sharp 
chipping  note  of  its  family,  but  its  song  is  strongly  marked, 
and  may  be  represented  by  the  notes,  zip-zip-zip-zwree-e-e-e- 
e-e,  zwree,  the  first  three  being  short,  subdued,  and  uttered 
in  quick  succession,  while  the  fourth  is  louder  and  drawn 
out  into  a  sort  of  trill  or  twitter  on  the  upward  slide,  and 
the  latter  is  much  shorter,  and  with  the  falling  inflection. 
The  song  is  not  loud,  and  has  but  little  variation,  but  is  one 
of  those  gentle,  drowsy  sounds  in  nature  which  are  decid- 
edly soothing.  While  this  species  is  not  generally 
dispersed,  it  seems  almost  to  monopolize  certain  upland 
fields  and  meadows,  in  which  places  its  melodies  are  almost 
the  only  bird-song  to  be  heard.  Being  strictly  terrestrial, 
almost  never  rising  above  the  fence,  and  keeping  so  closely 
to  the  fields  as  scarcely  ever  to  be  seen  in  the  highway,  thus 
being  very  unlike  the  Bay-wing,  its  nest  is  sunk  into  the 


THE   SWAMP   SPARROW.  199 

ground  like  that  of  the  latter,  but  is  much  more  thoroughly 
concealed  in  the  weeds  or  tall  grass.  It  is  slight,  and  com- 
posed almost  entirely  of  dried  grasses.  The  eggs,  4  or  5, 
often  not  more  than  3,  about  .76  x  .54,  are  greenish  or 
grayish  white,  spotted  and  blotched  with  light  brown  and 
lilac,  especially  about  the  large  end  where  the  markings 
may  become  coronal.  Sometimes  the  markings  are  dark 
brown,  and  become  so  thick  as  almost  to  conceal  the  ground- 
color. There  are  evidently  two  broods,  the  first  in  May  and 
the  second  late  in  June.  The  bird  leaves  the  nest  quietly, 
and  runs  along  in  the  grass  apparently  without  alarm, 
even  gleaning  her  food  as  she  goes. 

The  Savanna  Sparrow  has  always  been  regarded  as  par- 
ticularly numerous  near  the  sea-coast,  breeds  from  Mary- 
land and  corresponding  latitudes  northward,  and  winters  in 
great  abundance  in  the  Southern  States. 

The  Ipswich  Sparrow  (Passer culus  princeps),  first  reported 
by  Mr.  Maynard,  and  since  found  to  be  a  rather  common 
migrant  from  the  north  late  in  the  fall,  some  remaining  in 
New  England  during  the  winter,  may  be  simply  a  more 
northern  variety  of  the  Savanna  Sparrow,  than  which  it  is  a 
little  larger,  and  paler  in  color  and  markings. 

THE    SWAMP    SPARROW. 

As  early  as  the  22d  of  April,  in  the  marshes  of  Tona- 
wanda  Swamp,  I  have  heard  the  song  of  the  Swamp  Spar- 
row (Melospizapalustris).  The  exact  notation  is  difficult  to 
render  in  syllables.  Nuttall  speaks  of  it  as  "a  few  trilling, 
rather  monotonous,  minor  notes,  resembling,  in  some 
measure,  the  song  of  the  Field  Sparrow,  and  appearing 
like  tu>ey  tw'  tw'  tw1  tw'  tw'  twe,  and  twV  twil  ytw  tw'  twey 
uttered  in  a  pleasing  and  somewhat  varied  warble."  I 
would  add  that  the  trill  is  in  a  clear,  whistling  tone,  sound- 


200  THE   SWAMP   SPARROW. 

ing  like  tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee,  quite  sib- 
ilant, the  notes  being  essentially  the  same  as  those  of  the 
Chipping  Sparrow,  only  in  much  more  prolonged  and  musi- 
cal tones  —  a  sort  of  enlarged  and  improved  edition  of  it. 
Its  common  chipping  note,  too,  has  something  of  a  whistling 
tone,  rather  than  any  hoarseness,  such  as  is  sometimes 
ascribed  to  it. 

Some  5.50  or  upwards  in  length,  the  upper  parts 
are  a  rich  reddish-brown,  streaked  with  lighter  and  with 
black;  wings  deeply  edged  with  clear  brown;  chin  and 
belly  white,  tinged  with  ash;  breast  and  sides  washed  with 
brownish,  resembling  the  Song  Sparrow  somewhat,  but 
smaller  and  less  streaked,  and  without  the  spotted  breast. 
It  is  of  a  warmer  and  more  uniform  brown  than  any  of  the 
rest  of  our  Sparrows. 

The  ordinary  situation  of  the  nest,  according  to  the  best 
ornithologists,  is  on  the  ground,  after  the  usual  manner  of 
the  Sparrows;  but  sometimes,  especially  if  the  ground  is 
wet,  in  a  bush,  or  tussock  of  sedges.  I  think  the  latter  is 
the  much  more  common  situation  of  the  nest.  One 
which  I  found  in  an  open,  wet  marsh  of  Tonawanda 
Swamp,  on  the  25th  of  May,  was  built  into  a  thick  tussock  of 
sedges  and  cat-tails,  about  a  foot  from  the  ground.  It  was 
in  the  form  of  an  inverted  cone,  some  seven  inches  long, 
made  of  coarse  grasses  and  stubble,  laid  in  rough  angular 
style,  seeming  to  consist  of  several  sections,  the  rim  being 
very  uneven,  with  points  sticking  up  in  every  direction, 
reminding  one  of  some  rustic  picket  fence.  It  was  lined 
with  dried  grasses,  which  were  a  little  finer  than  those  used 
in  the  outside.  The  eggs,  four  and  sometimes  five,  about 
.77  X-51  inch,  are  greenish- white,  finely  and  thickly  specked, 
sometimes  brushed  with  brown. 

I  almost  failed  to  identify  the  nest  above  referred  to. 


THE    YELLOW-RUMPED    WARBLER.  201 

As  I  approached  it  the  female  slid  over  the  side  of  it  into 
the  sedges  and  cat-tails,  skulking  along  on  the  ground  like 
a  mouse;  but,  as  she  crossed  an  open  ditch,  she  paused  to 
look  at  me  a  few  moments,  and  thus  gave  me  the  opportu- 
nity of  recognition. 

A  nest  from  Nova  Scotia,  now  before  me,  was  taken  from 
a  tuft  of  tall  marsh-grass,  and  is  altogether  of  fine  dried 
grasses.  Neatly  cup-shaped,  its  walls  are  thick  and  com- 
pactly laid,  and  through  the  bottom  it  is  deep  and  dense. 
From  the  points  and  angles  of  dried  grasses  leaning  in 
almost  every  direction  around  its  edge,  it  is  of  the  same 
picket-fence  style  as  the  one  above  described,  and  the  eggs 
are  similar. 

This  bird  seems  confined  to  Eastern  North  America, 
breeding  from  the  Middle  States  to  Labrador,  and  winter- 
ing in  the  Southern  States.  It  is  quite  shy  and  retiring,  its 
residence  being  strictly  confined  to  the  swamps  and  their 
marshy  vicinity,  where  it  raises  two  broods  in  a  season.  I 
found  it  very  abundant  among  the  sedges  and  tall  grasses  of 
the  flooded  mashes  of  St.  .Clair  Flats. 

THE    YELLOW-RUMPED    WARBLER. 

On  the  22d  of  April,  as  I  paddle  a  light  boat  along  the 
meandering  course  of  a  stream  of  glassy  smoothness  in  Tona- 
wanda  Swamp,  in  the  shrubs  and  bushes,  which  are  densely 
thick  along  its  margin  and  form  a  belt  between  either  side 
of  the  stream  and  the  tall  forests  in  the  immediate  vicinity, 
I  spy  a  Yellow-rumped  Warbler  (Dendrceca  coronata).  It  is  a 
fine  male  flitting  leisurely  about ;  the  movement  of  this  species 
being  always  rather  slow  and  dignified  for  one  of  its  kind. 

About  5.50  long,  he  is  of  a  fine  ash  or  slate  color, 
streaked  with  black;  line  over  the  eye,  lower  eye-lid,  throat, 
wing-bars,  spots  in  the  outer  tail-feathers  and  belly,  white; 


202  THE    YELLOW-RUMP  ED    WARBLER. 

cheeks,  and  spots  across  the  upper  part  of  the  breast  and 
adown  the  front,  black;  crown,  rump  and  sides  of  the 
breast  by  the  wing-shoulders,  bright  yellow.  Does  that 
golden  crown  on  his  head  mark  him  as  a  king  ?  or  do  those 
bright  epaulets  designate  him  as  a  general-in-chief  ?  How- 
ever that  may  be,  his  dress  of  drab  and  black,  ornamented 
with  gold,  affords  a  striking  and  most  elegant  contrast  of 
colors;  and  his  size,  song,  general  dignity,  and  priority  of 
arrival  entitle  him  to  be  the  leader  of  his  large  and  beauti- 
ful family,  altogether  peculiar  to  America,  and  of  his  numer- 
ous genus,  also  peculiar  to  North  America;  none  of  his  genus, 
or  family,  arrive  earlier  than  he,  unless,  indeed,  it  may  be 
the  Yellow  Red-poll  or  Palm  Warbler,  which  is  exceedingly 
rare  here;  the  warblers  of  the  Old  World,  among  which 
Robin-red-breast  and  the  far-famed  Nightingale  are  con- 
spicuous, being  much  more  closely  allied  to  our  Kinglets 
than  to  the  great  family  of  their  American  namesakes. 
The  female  is  similar,  but  not  so  bright,  and  the  young  are 
brownish  instead  of  slaty,  the  yellow  markings  being  quite 
dim.  This  is  one  of  our  most  beautiful,  as  also  one  of  our 
most  common,  warblers.  Appearing  in  the  Middle  States, 
and  in  Southern  New  England,  about  the  20th  of  April,  it 
passes  to  the  north  in  considerable  numbers  for  a  month  or 
more,  returning  southward  again  late  in  October  or  in 
November. 

The  Yellow-rumped  Warbler,  or  Myrtle  Bird,  breeds  from 
Northern  New  England  to  the  arctic  regions,  and  northwest- 
ward to  Alaska  and  Washington  Territory.  The  nest,  in  a 
bush  or  tree,  often  an  evergreen,  and  but  a  few  feet  from 
the  ground,  is  about  four  inches  in  external  and  two  in  in- 
ternal diameter,  and  composed  of  weed-stalks,  vegetable 
fibers,  rootlets  or  grasses,  often  lined  with  feathers  or  hair. 
One  before  me,  from  Lunenburg  County,  Nova  Scotia, 


THE    YELLOW-RUMPED    WARBLER.  203 

taken  June  16th,  and  pretty  well  incubated,  was  found  in  a 
spruce  bush,  about  three  feet  from  the  ground,  and  con- 
tained two  eggs.  Of  about  the  usual  external  and  internal 
diameters,  and  quite  deep  —  some  2.50  inches  —  externally 
it  is  composed  entirely  of  fine  bleached  grasses,  and  lined 
with  a  continuous  and  thick  felt  of  dark-red  cow's  hair, 
such  as  is  seen  in  large  quantities  about  the  stumps  in 
spring,  being  rubbed  off  by  the  cattle  in  the  first  sloughing 
of  their  thick  coats.  Thus  the  nest  has  a  very  unique 
appearance  —  almost  straw-color  outside,  and  uniform  dark- 
red  or  bright-brown  inside.  Whether  of  weed-stalks,  vege- 
table fibers,  rootlets  or  grasses,  it  would  seem  that  the  nest 
of  this  species  is  generally  quite  homogeneous,  that  is, 
made  externally,  at  least,  of  the  one  kind  of  material. 
The  eggs  of  the  above  nest  are  of  the  usual  measurement 
— .72X  .54,  grayish-white,  pretty  heavily  marked  about  the 
large  end,  and  specked  all  over  with  dark-brown  and  neutral. 
Though  often  getting  well  up  among  the  tall  trees,  and  tak- 
ing somewhat  extended  excursions  into  the  air  after  insect 
prey,  the  Myrtle  Bird  is  not  so  active  on  the  wing  as  are  some 
of  the  Warblers.  In  spring  it  has  a  somewhat  loud  and  pleas- 
ing warble,  tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee-tswee,  and  so 
resembling  a  musical  twitter.  Indeed,  I  have  often  found  it 
difficult,  when  visiting  the  breeding  grounds,  to  distinguish 
it  from  the  song  of  the  Snow  Bird.  In  its  migrations  in 
the  beautiful  days  of  autumn,  this  Warbler  is  sometimes 
wont  to  lisp  its  song  softly.  Though  this  bird  breeds  so  far 
north,  its  nest  has  been  found  in  the  Southern  States  and  in 
the  West  Indies;  and  while  it  winters  in  the  Southern  States, 
and  even  in  the  tropics,  it  is  found  regularly  in  the  same 
season  in  the  Middle  States,  and  even  in  Southern  New 
England.  There  is  a  closely-allied  western  variety  or  spe- 
cies, called  Audubon's  Warbler. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

LATE    IN    APRIL. 

ON  the  morning  of  the  21st  of  April  (1880),  as  I  am  riding 
along  the  highway  by  the  upland  meadows,  I  spy  a 
Sparrow  Hawk  (Falco  sparverius),  perched  on  a  tall  dried 
mullein-stalk,  close  to  the  road.  He  keeps  his  perch  till  I 
am  not  more  than  four  rods  from  him,  partly  because  he  is 
the  tamest  of  all  the  Hawks,  but  more  especially  because  I 
am  riding.  Flying  off  in  an  irregular  zigzag  manner,  and 
not  very  high,  he  alights  in  a  small,  solitary  tree  in  the  open 
field.  I  stop  to  study  him.  Presently  he  starts  out  from 
the  tree,  flying  in  his  somewhat  tipsy  manner  for  a  few 
rods,  giving  the  impression  that  he  is  not  after  anything 
in  particular,  when  he  suddenly  hovers  gracefully  for  a  few 
seconds,  and  retires  to  the  tree  again.  Evidently  he  had  it 
in  mind  to  capture  some  little  creature  within  the  range  of 
his  keen  eye,  but  the  chase  did  not  turn  out  to  suit  him,  so 
he  has  concluded  to  await  the  next  opportunity.  In  less  than 
a  minute  he  sallies  forth  again,  barely  hovers,  and  drops  to 
the  ground,  returning  to  the  tree  with  some  small  prey, 
which,  as  I  turn  the  glass  upon  him,  I  discover  to  be  a  field 
mouse.  Holding  it  under  his  claw,  he  tears  it  in  pieces  and 
swallows  it  with  a  keen  appetite,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more 
is  off  again  in  a  similar  manner,  this  time  returning  with  an  ele- 
gant little  snake;  which,  after  munching  it  pretty  thoroughly 
with  his  toothed  bill,  and  stretching  it  out  several  times 


THE   SPARRO  W  HA  WK.  205 

with  bill  and  claw,  he  swallows,  with  vigorous  jerks  of  the 
head,  nearly  whole.  Again  he  is  off,  and  after  hovering 
several  times,  spends  some  time  on  the  ground,  devouring 
something  as  I  can  plainly  see  by  his  actions,  made  clear  by 
the  glass;  probably  he  is  now  varying  his  diet  with  some 
kind  of  insects,  of  which  he  consumes  great  numbers, 
especially  such  orthoptera  as  are  most  noxious  to  the  hus- 
bandman. Remaining  now  longer  than  usual  on  his  perch, 
he  jerks  his  tail  every  few  seconds,  as  if  decidedly  impatient 
of  this  long  quiet.  Now  he  flies  almost  towards  me,  and 
dashing  into  a  thicket  by  the  road-side,  emerges  with  a 
small  Sparrow  in  his  clutches,  thus  proving  himself  true  to 
his  name.  The  flight  is  within  close  range  of  a  shot-gun, 
and,  much  as  this  elegant  and  useful  little  Falcon  merits 
human  protection,  I  reflect  that  all  things — even  birds — are 
made  for  man,  and  so  drawing  the  lock  on  him  bring  him 
down,  the  Field  Sparrow  still  in  his  clutches.  It  is  a  male, 
some  10  inches  long  and  21  inches  in  extent  (the  smallest 
of  our  Hawks);  the  bill  is  particularly  pointed  and  toothed; 
the  top  of  his  crown  is  reddish-chestnut,  bordered  with 
slaty,  mixed  with  black;  a  streak  from  below  the  eye  down 
the  side  of  the  throat,  one  across  the  tips  of  the  ear- 
feathers,  a  spot  on  the  side  of  the  neck,  and  a  bordering  of 
the  slaty  behind  the  neck,  black — making  seven  black 
marks  about  the  head;  back  and  scapulars  reddish-brown, 
crossed  with  broken  lines  of  black;  wings  slaty  with  black 
spots;  the  primaries  dusky,  with  white  spots  on  the  inner 
vanes;  tail  reddish-brown,  with  a  broad,  sub- terminal  band 
of  black  and  a  slight  tip  of  white,  the  outer  feathers  being 
marked  with  black  and  white;  under  parts  reddish-white, 
with  a  few  roundish  spots  of  black  mostly  towards  the 
sides;  bill,  blue;  cere  and  legs,  yellow.  The  female  of  this 
species  is  about  an  inch  longer;  the  chestnut-red  on  the 


'206  THE   SPARROW  HAWK. 

crown  being  streaked  with  slaty;  the  upper  parts,  includ- 
ing the  tail,  wholly  reddish-brown,  heavily  cross-streaked 
with  black;  the  under  parts  yellowish-white,  streaked  with 
light-brown;  the  chin,  femoral  feathers,  and  vent,  clear; 
otherwise,  like  the  male.  The  young  are  said  to  be  covered 
with  a  whitish-down  at  first,  but  soon  approximate  the 
colors  of  the  mature  birds. 

The  dashing  attack  of  our  little  Falcon,  through  thickets 
and  along  hedges,  is  not  only  upon  Sparrows,  but  upon  the 
smaller  birds  in  general.  Not  only  the  elegant  Bluebird, 
the  stately  Cedar  Bird,  and  the  noisy  self-conceited  Cat- 
bird, may  become  its  prey,  but  even  the  Robin,  the  Brown 
Thrush,  and  the  Blue  Jay — birds  almost  as  large  as  itself. 
Unlike  the  true  Hawks,  and  some  other  species  of  its  family, 
it  does  not  give  a  long  chase  in  the  open  field  after  its  prey, 
but,  in  strict  pursuit,  stealthily  seeks  the  covert  of  bushes  or 
hedge-rows,  or  it  pounces  upon  the  innocent  passer-by  una- 
wares. Seldom,  indeed,  does  it  affect  the  barn-yard,  and 
then  only  to  pick  up  a  stray  chick  too  remote  for  parental 
interference;  and  since  by  far  the  greater  part  of  its  fare 
consists  of  noxious  vermin,  it  merits — as  indeed  it  often 
obtains — the  sympathy  and  protection  of  man. 

The  Sparrow  Hawk  generally  reaches  New  York  from 
the  south  about  the  middle  of  April  or  before,  sometimes 
even  as  early  as  March,  but  becomes  most  common  early  in 
May,  when  the  flood-tide  of  the  migration  of  the  little  birds 
is  fairly  set  in.  Then  it  may  frequently  be  seen  about  the 
fields  and  pastures,  or  even  passing  leisurely  over  the 
crowded  town,  with  a  peculiar  butterfly  locomotion;  and 
may  always  be  distinguished  from  the  Sharp-shinned  Hawk, 
so  near  it  in  size,  by  its  long-pointed  wings,  the  Sharp-shin 
having  rather  short  and  broad  wings.  Courtship,  which 
in  the  case  of  young  males  is  said  to  be  much  varied 


THE   SPARROW  HAWK.  207 

and  protracted  in  its  antics,  begins  very  soon;  and  about  the 
latter  part  of  May  or  early  in  June  the  eggs  are  laid.  As 
this  bird  breeds,  however,  from  Mexico  to  Hudson's  Bay, 
and  from  Maine  to  California,  its  time  of  nidification  varies 
considerably  according  to  locality.  It  is  well  understood 
that  it  generally  breeds  in  some  cavity  or  deserted 
Woodpecker's  hole,  pretty  well  up  in  a  tree  or  stub  —  often 
a  solitary  one  in  the  open  field;  and  that  its  eggs  are  laid 
on  the  pulverized  debris,  with,  perhaps,  the  merest  litter  of 
some  strawy  material;  but  it  may  adopt  the  old  nest 
of  a  Hawk  or  Crow,  may  seek  out  a  hole  in  the  wall  of  some 
unfinished  stone  building,  accept  the  old  nest  of  the 
Gray  Squirrel;  or,  as  in  "  the  canons  of  the  eastern  range  of 
the  Humboldt  Mountains,"  may  find  a  convenience  for  its 
nest  "in  hollows  of  limestone  cliffs";  or  may  even  find  its 
way  into  an  apartment  by  the  dove-cote. 

The  eggs,  generally  five,  some  1.32  X  1.13,  are  brownish- 
white,  specked  all  over,  but  often  more  about  the  large  end, 
with  reddish-brown;  but  not  infrequently  the  ground  is 
white  or  pinkish-white,  with  large  blotches  and  intermedi- 
ate specks  of  light  red  all  over — the  eggs  having  a  peculiar 
reddish  appearance.  Rarely,  they  are  said  to  be  whitish,  with- 
out any  marking. 

Unless  very  seriously  disturbed,  these  Hawks  occupy  the 
same  nesting  place  from  year  to  year,  the  male  sharing  in 
incubation.  They  defend  even  their  eggs  with  dashing 
nights,  snapping  of  the  bill,  and  indignant  screams  at  the 
intruder.  The  young,  brought  out  from  the  shell  in  about 
15  or  16  days,  are  fed  on  grasshoppers,  crickets  and  cater- 
pillars at  first;  but  afterwards  are  nourished  by  small  rep- 
tiles, birds  and  quadrupeds.  At  about  six  weeks  of  age 
they  quit  the  nest,  and  when  two  months  old  they  shift  for 
themselves.  This  Hawk  accepts  no  food  but  that  of  its 


208  THE  BLUE-WINGED    TEAL. 

own  capture,  and  will  even  reject  such  as  is  infected  with 
parasites.  It  may  go  far  beyond  our  southern  limits  in 
winter,  but  it  is  not  found  in  the  highest  latitudes  of  North 
America  in  summer. 

THE    BLUE-WINGED    TEAL. 

On  reaching  a  beautiful  large  pond,  an  enlargement  of 
Oak  Orchard  Creek,  in  the  edge  of  the  wilderness  of  Tona- 
wanda  Swamp,  I  seat  myself  behind  a  small  screen  of  rails 
and  bits  of  board  in  the  corner  of  the  fence,  for  observation. 
It  is  a  beautiful  sunny  day,  with  a  remarkably  clear  sky  for 
the  month  of  April.  About  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  a 
small  flock  of  Blue-winged  Teals  (Querquedula  discors)  fly 
down  the  narrow,  glassy  stream,  and  alight  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  pond.  How  straightforward  and  swiftly  they 
fly,  their  narrow-pointed  wings  beating  the  air  with  a  grace- 
fulness and  rapidity  truly  wonderful.  Generally  the  Teals 
reconnoiter  the  place  in  cautious,  circling  flights,  before 
alighting;  but  this  is  a  very  retired  spot,  where  this  flock 
has  no  doubt  fed  undisturbed  for  some  time;  hence,  with- 
out this  ordinary  precaution,  they  drop  gently  down  with 
rigidly  expanded  wings,  and,  having  glanced  about  them, 
soon  immerse  their  heads  in  search  of  the  naia s  flexilis  and 
other  species  of  the  pond-weed  family  luxuriating  in  these 
quiet  waters.  Occasionally  they  throw  up  their  feet  and 
hinder  parts  in  feeding,  but  generally  float  quietly  on  the 
water,  simply  plunging  the  head  and  neck.  Every  now  and 
then  they  change  their  spot  for  feeding,  swimming  so  grace- 
fully and  rapidly  that  they  seem  almost  like  an  apparition 
on  the  smooth  surface.  The  tranquility  of  the  place  on  this 
beautiful  sunny  morning  is  perfect.  There  is  apparently 
not  the  slightest  cause  for  the  suspicion  of  danger,  and  the 
little  flock  of  Blue-wings  seem  completely  off  their  guard. 


THE  BLUE-WINGED    TEAL.  209 

I  cannot  detect  any  vigilance  whatever  on  their  part.  They 
are  too  far  off  for  a  shot,  and  this  I  do  not  particularly 
regret,  for  I  am  not  a  pot-hunter,  nor  a  mere  anatomic  nat- 
uralist. I  simply  like  to  know  what  transpires  in  such  remote 
and  quiet  nooks,  and  how  these  elegant  little  Ducks  behave 
in  their  undisturbed  haunts.  I  note  the  elegant  form  and  deli- 
cately-penciled coloring  of  the  males  in  this  little  flock  of  Blue- 
winged  Teals.  One  of  the  smallest  of  our  Ducks,  it  is  only  16 
inches  long  and  31  in  extent  of  wings,  with  small  head  and 
bill  and  a  slender  neck;  his  crown,  with  a  narrow  line  down 
the  hind  neck  is  black;  there  is  a  white  crescent  in  front  of  the 
eye;  the  head  is  a  purplish  glossy  drab;  the  back  and  scapulars 
deep  dusky,  with  concentric  wavy  lines  and  tips  of  reddish; 
back  deep  dusky,  edged  with  drab;  longer  scapulars  and  the 
tertiaries,  greenish-black  with  medium  line  of  red;  wing- 
coverts  ultra-marine,  with  a  line  of  white  between  them  and 
the  glossy  green  secondaries  forming  the  speculum;  the 
dusky  tail  has  a  white  spot  on  each  side,  with  the  under- 
coverts  black;  breast  and  under  parts  reddish,  elegantly 
spotted  with  black.  The  female,  about  an  inch  shorter 
than  the  male,  has  the  plumage  generally  dark  brown,  mar- 
gined with  brownish- white;  the  cheeks  and  throat  whitish; 
wing-coverts  not  quite  so  brightly  ultra-marine 'as  in  the 
male;  the  dusky-brown  feathers  of  the  under  parts  have  a 
brownish-white  streak  or  spot  in  the  center.  The  female 
does  not  have  the  white  crescent  in  front  of  the  eye.  The 
young  are  like  the  female,  and  the  old  males  return  in  the 
fall  migrations  without  the  sexual  markings. 

Lingering  with  us  even  into  May,  and  returning  early  in 
September,  this  Teal  is  one  of  the  last  of  all  the  migratory 
Ducks  to  leave  us,  and  about  the  first  to  come  back  from  its 
more  northerly  breeding  grounds.  Though  extending  far 
north,  even  to  Alaska,  in  the  breeding  season,  they  have 
14 


210  THE  BLUE-WINGED    TEAL. 

been  known  to  rear  their  young  within  our  limits,  as  well  as 
in  all  suitable  places  intervening.  Being  a  vegetable  feeder, 
and  a  fresh-water  bird,  it  avoids  not  only  the  salt  water,  but 
also  the  cold,  clear,  rock-bounded  waters  of  the  northern 
interior,  resorting  to  the  mud-flats  of  great  rivers,  the  quiet, 
marshy  borders  of  our  lakes,  sluggish  streams,  and  ponds 
abounding  in  vegetable  growths.  In  late  fall  and  early 
spring  it  is  said  to  be  abundant  in  the  flooded  rice-field  of 
the  south.  Except  in  the  coldest  weather,  Audubon  testi- 
fied to  its  great  abundance  about  the  mouths  of  the  Missis- 
sippi in  winter;  while  Wilson  speaks  of  large,  dense  flocks 
in  their  migrations,  on  the  muddy  shoals  bordering  the  Dela- 
ware. Swimming  or  flying,  the  birds  keep  so  close  to- 
gether in  the  flock  that  great  numbers  may  be  taken  at  a 
single  shot.  I  have  seen  them  scouring  the  shores  of  Lake 
Ontario  in  great  flocks  in  September,  so  densely  massed  in 
flight  as  to  appear  almost  like  a  cloud,  and  passing  with  the 
swiftness  of  the  Wild  Pigeon.  At  such  times  their  flight  is 
truly  elegant,  the  lustrous  light-blue  of  their  wings  glisten- 
ing like  polished  steel  in  the  sunshine.  In  spring,  one  may 
occasionally  catch  their  soft,  lisping  notes.  Being  sensitive 
to  the  cold  for  birds  of  their  kind,  like  our  delicate  birds  of 
song,  they  often  pass  portions  of  the  winter  even  in  the 
tropical  regions.  After  the  manner  of  the  Ducks  in  gen- 
eral, the  Teals  are  wedded  in  the  latter  part  of  winter  while 
yet  in  the  south. 

The  nest  of  this  species  is  on  the  ground  on  some  prairie, 
or  in  some  marsh,  generally  near  the  water,  is  made  of  dried 
grasses,  sedges  and  weeds,  and  lined  with  down.  The  eggs, 
some  eight  or  more,  about  1.75  X  1.31,  are  very  smooth,  and 
of  a  dull,  creamy  white. 

Being  a  vegetable  feeder,  the  flesh  of  the  Blue-winged 
Teal  is  tender  and  luscious,  and  is  therefore  a  great  desid- 


THE.  GREEN-WINGED    TEAL.  211 

eratum  for  the  table.     West  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  it  is 
replaced  by  its  near  relative,  the  Cinnamon  Teal. 

THE    GREEN-WINGED    TEAL. 

Tagging  after  the  little  flock  of  Blue-wings  at  a  distance 
of  a  few  yards,  like  some  stray  and  unwelcome  relative,  was 
a  solitary  male  of  the  Green-winged  Teal,  his  flight  being 
very  similar,  and  his  place  of  alighting  only  a  few  rods  dis- 
tant and  much  nearer  the  shore.  Excepting  certain  aquatic 
insects  and  minute  mollusks,  the  food  of  this  species  seems 
to  be  nearly  terrestrial  —  consisting  of  the  seeds  of  weeds 
and  grasses,  berries  and  small  nuts.  Hence  it  feeds  in  the 
very  edge  of  the  water,  floating  deeply,  and  plunging  the 
head  and  neck,  and  not  infrequently  stepping  out  on  the 
land,  where  it  walks  quite  gracefully.  In  the  air  and  on  the 
water  its  movements  are  very  similar  to  those  of  the  Blue- 
wing;  and,  except  that  it  is  rather  hardier  and  more  north- 
erly, reaching  us  somewhat  later  in  autumn  and  leaving  us 
earlier  in  spring,  its  habitat  and  migrations  are  almost  the 
same.  It,  too,  for  the  most  part,  avoids  the  sea  and  the 
clear,  rocky  lake  regions,  preferring  such  flooded  fields, 
sedgy  streams,  ponds  and  lakes  as  bring  it  in  contact  with 
its  favorite  vegetable  growths,  especially  such  bodies  of 
water  as  abound  in  the  wild  rice. 

Second  only  to  the  Wood  Duck  in  beauty  is  the  male  of 
this  elegant  species.  Some  fifteen  inches  long,  and  twenty- 
four  in  extent,  the  head  and  upper  part  of  the  neck  are 
bright  chestnut-brown,  the  throat  dusky,  and  a  patch  from 
before  the  eye  to  the  nape,  glossy  green;  the  pendent  crest 
being  brown  above  and  black  below;  back,  tail  and  greater 
part  of  the  wings,  dusky;  the  speculum,  elegant  glossy 
green,  bounded  with  jet-black  above  and  below;  several  of 
the  scapulars  edged  with  black;  epaulets  white;  the  rest 


212  WILSON'S  SNIPE. 

of  the  upper  parts  most  elegantly  white  and  black  penciled; 
breast  vinous  ruddy,  finely  spotted  with  black;  under  parts 
buffy  white,  with  patches  of  clear  white  and  coal  black 
about  the  tail.  The  female  has  the  entire  head  and  neck 
dingy  white,  speckled  with  black,  the  breast  grayish-brown, 
spotted  with  darker;  the  back  deep  brown,  crossed  with 
broad,  wavy  lines  of  brownish-white. 

Having  thoroughly  observed  this  solitary  Green-winged 
Teal,  I  rise  to  my  feet,  when  he  takes  alarm,  rising  from 
the  water  at  a  single  bound,  and  coursing  through  the  air 
amidst  the  tall  tree-tops  with  most  surprising  rapidity,  is 
almost  instantly  followed  by  the  Blue-wings. 

The  nidification  of  this  species  is  precisely  like  that  of 
the  latter,  except  that  the  eggs  are  a  trifle  larger,  about 
1.90  x  1.32.  The  nest  may  be  found  from  the  northern 
borders  of  the  United  States  northward. 

WILSON'S  SNIPE. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  22d  of  April  (1880).  All  the 
afternoon  I  had  heard  firing  of  guns  in  the  wild  meadows 
of  Tonawanda  Swamp.  As  twilight  approached  and  the 
firing  ceased,  the  air  became  resonant  with  the  vernal  chant 
of  Wilson's  Snipe  (Gallinago  wilsoni).  In  every  direction 
the  birds  might  be  seen,  describing  their  ascending  and 
somewhat  spiral  curves  with  that  nervous  beat  of  the  wings, 
so  peculiar  to  themselves,  while  others,  too  high  to  be  dis- 
cerned in  the  dusky  air,  added  not  a  little  to  the  general 
vocal  effect.  This  song  of  the  Snipe,  characteristic  of  the 
breeding  season,  or  even  of  the  entire  spring,  and  heard 
for  the  most  part  in  the  early  morning,  or  in  the  evening 
from  twilight  till  after  dark,  is  at  once  striking  and  strongly 
differentiated  Beginning  in  subdued  tones,  somewhat 
like  the  sounds  produced  by  the  oblique  strokes  of  a  Pigeon's 


WILSON'S  SNIPE.  213 

wings  in  alighting,  the  simple  notes  are  uttered  rapidly, 
and  through  an  ascending  scale  of  nearly  an  octave  in  the 
shortest  chromatic  steps,  the  mellow  tones  being  rather 
loudest  in  the  middle  of  the  strain  and  gradually  softening 
to  the  closing  and  highest  note,  the  whole  performance 
being  after  the  manner  of  a  swell  in  music.  The  notes 
might  be  readily  represented  by  the  repetition  of  the  sylla- 
ble, koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo- 
koo;  and  though  not  decidedly  musical,  they  have  in  them 
the  tenderness  and  inspiration  of  spring,  readily  associating 
themselves  with  April  showers,  balmy  atmospheres,  spring- 
ing grass,  and  that  northern  harbinger  of  spring-flora — 
the  blooming  amelanchierm 

Here  and  there,  on  the  evening  referred  to,  one  might  see 
the  Snipes  alighting — dropping  slowly  and  gracefully  down 
on  a  falling  curve,  their  wings  extending  upward  at  an 
angle  of  some  ninety  degrees.  Generally  they  disappeared 
among  the  bleached  grass  and  sedges  of  the  previous  year 
standing  in  several  inches  of  water;  but  occasionally  they 
perched  on  old  stubs,  making  an  odd  figure  among  the 
gay  Red-wings  just  greeting  the  newly-arrived  females  with 
the  merriest  and  sweetest  of  Blackbird  songs. 

How  vividly  I  recall  the  odd  antics  of  the  Snipes  in  the  wild 
meadow  on  the  old  paternal  farm  in  Nova  Scotia.  How  grati- 
fying to  childhood  curiosity  was  it  to  hide  away  in  the  alder 
bushes  and  watch  him  as  he  took  his  morning  or  evening 
repast.  See  him  walk — almost  run — with  nimble,  easy  steps; 
his  long  bill — schnepfe — which,  in  the  old  Saxon  language, 
gave  the  bird  its  name,  pointing  obliquely  forward  and 
downward,  and  his  short  tail  somewhat  thrown  up.  Now 
he  probes  the  soft  mud,  pushing  his  limber  bill  down  half 
its  length  or  more,  and  testing  almost  every  square  inch 
for  quite  a  distance  around,  the  delicate  external  membrane 


214  WILSON'S  SNIPE. 

of  that  strongly  specialized  instrument,  well  supplied  with 
the  most  sensitive  nerves,  readily  detecting  the  presence  of 
earth-worms,  or  such  tender  roots  of  plants  as  are  agreeable 
to  the  bird's  taste.  How  queer  he  looks  now,  standing  in  that 
half-crouched  position,  as  if  intently  listening;  or,  how 
pleasing  as  he  stands  at  ease,  one  foot  raised,  and  his  back- 
ward eyes  peering  weirdly.  Or  note  him  as  he  approaches 
the  coy  female  half-hidden  in  the  faded  grass  so  near  her 
own  color.  Bending  forward  with  neck  shortened  and 
curved  till  his  breast  and  the  tip  of  his  bill  nearly 
touch  the  ground,  the  tips  of  his  loosened  and  droop- 
ing wings  dragging  at  his  sides,  and  his  elevated  tail 
spread  out  like  a  quaint  little  fan,  he  struts  before  her  as  gay 
as  a  Turkey-cock  in  miniature.  Should  anything  alarm  him, 
he  will  scamper  away  quite  a  distance  into  the  thick  grasses 
and  sedges;  or,  if  he  be  hard  pressed,  he  may  take  wing, 
and,  rising  a  few  feet  into  the  air  and  emitting  his  charac- 
teristic ."How-Ike"  fly  in  a  nervous  zigzag  manner  for 
a  few  rods,  and  quickly  drop  out  of  sight.  This  short  and 
rapid  flight  is  the  supreme  moment  for  a  shot.  And  if 
anything  will  send  one's  blood  tingling  to  the  tips  of 
fingers  and  toes,  it  is  to  drop  this  noted  creature  of  the 
bog  and  fen  just  as  he  gets  fairly  under  way. 

Many  a  time  in  boyhood,  as  I  searched  for  the  cows  in  the 
wild  meadow  close  by  the  stream  meandering  through  the 
alders,  did  the  Snipe  leave  her  nest  just  under  my  feet. 
Merely  glancing  at  the  warm,  grayish-brown  eggs  heavily 
blotched  with  umber  —  the  four  pear-shaped  objects  lying 
with  the  small  ends  together  in  a  mere  depression  of  the 
ground  on  a  few  leaves  or  dried  grasses  —  I  would  start  after 
the  artful  bird  in  her  moods  of  distress.  Surely  thinking 
her  sick  or  wounded  and  ready  to  die,  as  she  tumbled  and 
fluttered  about  on  the  ground  only  a  few  feet  from  me, 


WILSON'S  SNIPE.  215 

wheezing  and  moaning  in  the  most  distressed  manner,  I 
would  scramble  and  strive  to  my  utmost  to  capture  her; 
but  after  decoying  me  a  few  rods  from  the  nest  she  would 
soon  recover  and  skulk  away  into  the  bushes,  leaving  me  to 
my  own  cogitations,  as  I  stood  some  half-way  between  her 
missing  self  and  the  nest  now  wholly  lost  sight  of. 

It  would  seem  that  only  the  female  attends  to  the  duties  of 
incubation,  the  male  being  cognizable  in  the  vicinity  at  all 
times  of  day,  and  sometimes  giving  his  aerial  serenade  as 
late  as  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  The  eggs  are  about  1.60  X 
1.12,  the  yellowish  or  grayish-olive  color  varying  consider- 
ably in  different  clutches;  the  dark  umber  and  obscure 
spots  and  blotches  extending  more  or  less  all  over  the  shell, 
but  thickening  and  enlarging  at  the  large  end.  The  young, 
of  a  grayish-yellow,  heavily  streaked  with  several  shades  of 
brown,  according  to  the  precocious  habits  of  the  infant 
Waders,  leave  the  nest  as  soon  as  they  are  out  of  the  shell, 
feeding  on  the  insects  found  in  mud,  moss  and  meadow- 
grass,  until  their  tender  bills  are  firm  enough  to  probe  the 
soft  ooze. 

As  is  the  case  with  the .  European  Snipe,  which  ours  so 
closely  resembles,  Wilson's  Snipe  is  one  of  the  most  fasci- 
nating of  game-birds  to  the  sportsman.  Mark  this  happy 
Specimen  of  the  human  race,  as  with  hip-boots,  trusty  gun, 
full  accoutrements,  and  faithful  pointer,  he  creeps  stealthily 
through  the  tall  sedges!  The  dog  alone  has  that  high 
sensibility  of  the  olfactory  nerves  which  can  take  the  subtle 
scent  of  this  noted  game-bird,  but  his  master  is  all  eye  and 
ear  to  see  in  what  direction  the  bird  will  lie  to  the  dog;  and 
so  when  the  bird  is  put  up  he  is  ready  to  take  it  in  its  quick, 
short,  and  rather  irregular  flight,  with  that  ready  skill 
which  consummates  the  pleasure  of  a  genuine  sportsman. 
And  if  he  bring  home  his  game-bag  well  filled  with 


216  THE  LARGE    YELLOWSHANKS. 

Snipe,    he    considers   the   hardest    day's    tramp    well    re- 
warded. 

The  Snipe  is  11  inches  long,  bill  2^  or  more,  grooved  on 
the  sides,  enlarged  at  the  end,  and  though  smooth  in  life, 
becomes  marked  like  a  thimble  when  dried.  The  crown  is 
deep  brown,  with  median  line  of  brownish-white;  sides  of 
the  head  light  reddish-brown,  with  a  dark  brown  streak 
from  the  nostril  to  the  eye,  and  a  whitish  spot  above,  and 
one  in  front  of  the  eye;  upper  parts  deep  brown,  specked, 
spotted  and  streaked  with  reddish-brown  and  white;  wings 
dusky  brown;  fore-neck  and  breast  brown  and  buffy- white, 
spotted  and  waved;  tail  chestnut-red,  marked  with  black 
and  white;  under  parts  white;  sides  barred  with  black. 
The  female  is  a  little  lighter  colored  than  the  male. 

THE    LARGE    YELLOWSHANKS. 

Firing  into  a  flock  of  Rusty  Grakles,  gleaning  food  from 
the  ground  bordering  a  flooded  field  in  the  vicinity  of  Ton- 
awanda  Swamp,  on  the  30th  of  April  (1880),  I  roused  a  flock 
of  some  fifty  of  the  large  Yellowshanks  (Totanus  melanoleu- 
cus).  They  rose  in  the  most  excited  manner  only  a  few 
rods  from  me,  emitting  their  loud  whistling  notes,  cree-oo, 
cree-oo,  cree-oo,  the  volume  of  which,  coming  from  the  whole 
flock,  might  well  alarm  all  the  feathered  tribes  in  the 
neighborhood,  thus  making  good  their  reputation  among 
gunners  as  Telltales,  or  Tattlers.  With  the  long  bill  and 
neck  stretched  forward,  the  long  legs  extended  backward, 
and  the  long-pointed  wings  forming  gull-like  arcs  in  their 
rapid,  steady  beating,  this  flock,  circling  swiftly  over  the 
field  several  times  and  then  fading  out  in  the  distance, 
makes  one  think  of  the  sea  and  its  multitudes  of  water-fowl. 

Knowing  that  these  birds  will  soon  be  back,  I  hide  behind 
the  fence,  ready  to  give  them  a  salutation.  In  about  half 


THE  LARGE    YELLOWSHANKS.  217 

an  hour  they  reappear  like  black  specks  against  the  gray 
clouds.  In  a  few  seconds  I  can  define  them  clearly  above 
the  tall  forest,  and  can  hear  the  clangor  of  their  peculiar 
voices;  after  circling  several  times  over  the  inundated 
field  they  alight  about  three  gun-shots  off,  each  pair  of 
wings  pointing  straight  upward  for  a  few  moments,  as  if  to 
be  sure  that  every  feather  is  in  place  before  folding.  For  a 
few  moments  they  glance  around  to  assure  themselves  that 
all  is  safe.  Then  wading  about  in  a  hurried  manner,  half- 
way to  their  bodies  in  water,  with  much  balancing  and 
vibrating  of  the  body  and  graceful  darting  of  the  head  in 
various  directions,  they  seek  their  food  of  aquatic  insects, 
worms,  minute  mollusks  and  tiny  fishes.  Creeping  along 
stealthily  behind  the  fence  till  I  arrive  within  shot-range,  I 
wing  several  with  one  charge.  The  flock,  rising  and  scatter- 
ing for  a  few  moments,  as  if  disconcerted,  come  together 
and  hover  over  their  wounded  comrades  as  thickly  as  wings 
can  vibrate  among  each  other,  calling  to  them  most  pit- 
eously.  Strange  to  say,  I  pointed  my  gun  at  the  hovering 
cloud,  and  who  can  tell  what  might  have  been  the  conse- 
quences had  it  not  failed  to  go  off.  This  hovering  over 
wounded  companions,  common  to  various  kinds  of  water- 
birds  which  go  in  flocks,  is  a  most  affecting  manifestation 
of  fellow-sympathy;  but  it  is  very  fatal  to  them,  giving  the 
rarest  opportunity  to  the  second  barrel  of  the  sportsman. 
The  wounded  Yellowshanks  push  their  slender  shins 
through  the  water  with  surprising  rapidity,  make  a  fair 
attempt  at  swimming,  and  put  their  heads  under  the  water 
when  closely  pursued,  but  do  not  understand  the  art  of 
diving.  I  learned  from  the  people  in  the  neighborhood  that 
these  birds  had  occupied  this  feeding  ground  continuously 
for  several  weeks,  and  that  they  did  not  remain  long  after 
this.  Winteiing  in  the  Southern  States  and  in  the  West 


218  THE  LARGE    YELLOW  SHANKS. 

Indies,  and  breeding  from  Nova  Scotia  northward,  it  is 
merely  a  passenger  through  these  middle  districts,  scarcely 
seen  after  the  first  of  May,  but  returning  already  in  August 
or  even  in  July.  Stray  birds  sometimes  linger  so  late  in 
Massachusetts  as  to  receive  the  name,  Winter  Yellow-legs; 
and  I  have  known  them  to  be  shot  on  the  south  shore  of  Lake 
Ontario  as  late  as  November  19th,  when  the  Old  Squaw  Ducks 
had  already  arrived ;  they  are  not  uncommon  on  the  sea-coast, 
but  being  rather  fresh-water  birds,  are  more  abundant  in 
the  interior.  When  in  Yarmouth,  Nova  Scotia,  a  few  weeks 
since,  I  saw  in  the  collection  of  Mr.  Doan,  a  taxidermist  of 
that  place,  the  young  of  this  species  in  the  down,  along  with 
the  parent,  both  having  been  shot  and  mounted  by  that  gen- 
tleman. He  procured  them  at  Chebogue  Point,  near  the 
city.  They  probably  breed  more  or  less  in  the  marshes 
about  Chebogue  and  Tusket  River,  in  the  southwest  end  of 
the  Province.  Strange  to  say,  the  nest  of  this  species  has 
recently  been  reported  from  New  Jersey. 

Audubon  says:  "When  in  Labrador  I  found  these  birds 
breeding,  two  or  three  pairs  together,  in  the  delightful 
quiet  valleys  bounded  by  rugged  hills  of  considerable 
height,  and  watered  by  limpid  brooks.  These  valleys 
exhibit,  in  June  and  July,  the  richest  verdure;  luxuriant 
grasses  of  various  species  growing  here  and  there  in  sep- 
arate beds,  many  yards  in  extent,  while  the  intervening 
spaces,  which  are  comparatively  bare,  are  of  that  boggy 
nature  so  congenial  to  the  habits  of  these  species.  In  one 
of  these  pleasing  retreats  my  son  found  a  pair  of  Telltales 
in  the  month  of  June,  both  of  which  were  procured.  The 
female  was  found  to  contain  a  full-formed  egg,  and  some 
more  of  the  size  of  peas.  The  eggs  are  four,  pyriform,  2.25 
long  and  1.60  in  their  greatest  breadth,  pale  greenish-yellow, 
marked  with  blotches  of  umber  and  pale  purplish-gray." 


THE   SMALL    YELLOW  SHANKS. 

The  Large  Yellowshanks  are  said  to  breed  very 
commonly  on  Anticosti. 

About  14  inches  long  and  25  in  extent  of  wings,  bill  2.25 
and  of  dark  horn-color;  color  above,  ashy-brown  or  dusky, 
each  feather  being  edged  with  white  and  sub-margined 
with  waves  or  spots  of  black;  secondaries  and  tertiaries 
edged  with  alternate  spots  of  white  and  black;  head  and 
neck  streaked  with  dusky  and  white;  spot  in  front  of  the  eye, 
throat  and  under  parts,  white;  upper  and  lower  tail- 
coverts  white,  crossed  with  wavy  lines  of  dusky;  the  bright 
yellow  legs  and  feet,  together  with  its  size,  well  character- 
izing the  species. 

THE    SMALL    YELLOWSHANKS. 

Scarcely  more  than  a  miniature  of  the  above  is  the  Small 
Yellow-shanks  (Totanus  flavipes).  Being  less  than  11  inches 
long  and  about  20  in  extent,  it  is  very  perceptibly  smaller; 
but,  except  that  it  is  a  little  darker,  it  is  about  the  same  in 
form,  color  and  marking,  so  that  the  description  of  the 
former  species  answers  sufficiently  for  this,  and  it  has  about 
the  same  diet,  habitat,  and  habits  in  general.  Audubon 
reported  it  as  breeding  commonly  about  Pictou,  Nova 
Scotia;  his  friend,  Professor  MacCulloch,  describes  the  nest 
"  as  placed  among  the  grass  on  the  edges  of  the  rivers  and 
large  ponds  of  the  interior."  According  to  Dr.  Coues, 
"  the  eggs  are  deposited  on  the  ground^  in  a  little  depres- 
sion, lined  with  a  few  dried  leaves  or  grasses.  They  are 
three  or  four  in  number,  narrowly  and  pointedly  pyriform, 
measuring  from  1.58x1.18-1.78x1.15.  *  *  * 

The  ground  is  a  clear  clay-color,  sometimes  tending  more 
to  buffy  or  creamy,  sometimes  rather  to  light  brown.  vThe 
marking  is  bold  and  heavy,  but  presents  the  customary 
great  diversity,  some  eggs  being  very  heavily  splashed  with 


220  THE   SMALL    YELLOWSHANKS. 

blotches,  confluent  about  the  larger  end,  while  others  have 
smaller  clean-edged  spots  all  over  the  surface.  The  mark- 
ings are  rich  umber-brown,  often  tending  to  chocolate, 
sometimes  almost  blackish.  The  paler  shell-markings  are 
usually  numerous  and  noticeable." 

On  the  following  morning,  I  saw  a  flock  of  these  Lesser 
Yellowshanks  scouring  the  same  flooded  fields  above  re- 
ferred to.  After  describing  several  of  their  elegant  circles, 
each  keeping  his  place  in  the  finely-ordered  ranks,  they 
lighted  in  the  shallow  water  near  a  thicket.  I  crept  around 
into  the  thicket,  and  crawling  almost  on  hands  and  knees 
behind  a  brush-fence,  when  I  supposed  myself  near  enough 
for  a  good  shot,  and  was  peering  cautiously  around  in  order 
to  take  aim  from  behind  my  screen,  before  I  could  get  my 
eye  on  one  of  the  number  I  heard  the  ominous  whistle  — 
the  signal  of  danger  —  and  away  the  little  creatures  were 
careering  beyond  shot-range.  I  rose  and  watched  the  flock 
till  they  were  out  of  sight,  studying  that  whistle  which  had 
been  given  by  the  sentinel  so  well  on  the  alert,  and  which 
they  all  seemed  so  to  comprehend  in  an  instant.  To  this 
moment  I  can  feel  in  my  eye-balls  the  quick  and  simultane- 
ous beat  of  their  wings. 

Once,  at  Barnegat  Inlet  (N.  J.),  late  in  August,  as  I  stood 
on  the  piazza  of  the  club-house  with  some  half-dozen  others, 
a  flock  of  these  birds  appeared.  Some  one  whistled  in 
imitation  of  their  note,  and  at  once  they  turned  and  flew 
directly  towards  us.  By  the  time  they  came  within  shot- 
range,  some  one  had  brought  out  a  gun,  and  giving  them 
two  charges,  dropped  quite  a  number  of  them.  They  are 
gentle,  winsome  little  creatures,  and  well  deserve  to  be  held 
in  favor  by  all  lovers  of  nature.  Thev  are  not  so  common 
here  as  the  larger  species. 


THE  RUSTY  GRAKLE.  221 

THE    RUSTY    GRAKLE. 

On  the  first  day  of  May,  1880,  as  I  stood  on  an  iron 
bridge  crossing  a  sluggish  stream  of  Tonawanda  Swamp,  I 
saw  the  Rusty  Grakles  (Scolecophagus  ferrugineus)  constantly 
trooping  by  in  immense  numbers.  They  were  moving  in  a 
very  leisurely  manner,  immense  detachments  constantly 
alighting.  The  large  tract  of  low  land,  covered  with  the 
alder,  the  willow  and  the  osier,  seemed  alive  with  them. 
The  sombre  wave,  thus  constantly  rolling  on,  must  have 
carried  hundreds  of  thousands  over  this  highway  in  a  day. 
Occasionally  they  would  alight  to  feed  in  the  low,  wet  fields 
in  the  vicinity,  making  the  earth  black  with  their  numbers. 
Their  notes,  or  what  might  be  called  their  songs,  were 
almost  deafening  —  resembling,  indeed,  the  vocal  perform- 
ances of  the  Red-wings,  but  far  less  musical,  being  more  of 
a  sharp,  metallic  clatter,  interspersed  with  loud  squealing,, 
and  almost  destitute  of  the  liquid,  warbling  notes  so  pecul- 
iar to  that  species.  On  being  alarmed,  either  in  the  fields 
or  in  the  bushes,  these  Grakles  would  rise  in  a  dense,  black 
cloud,  and  with  a  rumbling  sound  like  that  of  distant 
thunder.  Their  flight,  which  ordinarily  is  not  very  high,  is 
straightforward,  with  a  steady  beat  of  the  wings,  after  the 
manner  of  our  Blackbirds  in  general.  To  one  who  has 
merely  met  these  birds  in  their  rusty  coats,  as  they  visit  the 
fields  in  moderate  flocks  on  their  way  south  in  October  or 
perhaps  as  early  as  the  last  of  September,  or  as  late  as  the 
first  of  November,  they  would  scarcely  be  recognizable  on 
these  gala-days  of  their  northward  migration,  so  almost 
completely  have  they  doffed  the  rust-color;  the  male  being 
of  an  elegant  glossy  black,  with  the  merest  touch  here  and 
there  of  the  rusty  fringe;  and  even  the  female  being  of  a  fine 
brown  or  slaty-black,  and  having  but  a  moderate  garniture 
of  this  distinguishable  edging  on  her  nuptial  plumage.  The 


222  THE  RUSTY  GRAKLE. 

Rusty  Grakle  generally  goes  northward  through  this  region 
early  in  April,  or  even  in  March.  Perhaps  these  have  been 
detained,  or  have  loitered  by  the  way,  and  are  now  advanc- 
ing with  a  somewhat  forced  march  along  their  swampy 
thoroughfare. 

Spending  the  winter  in  the  Southern  and  even  in  the 
Middle  States  —  in  a  few  cases  as  far  north  as  the  lower 
Connecticut  Valley  —  the  Rusty  Grakle  breeds  from  north- 
ern New  England,  northward  through  Labrador,  westward 
to  Alaska,  and  even  as  far  north  as  69°;  Kansas,  Nebraska 
and  Dakota  being  its  western  limit.  Like  the  Red-wing,  it 
is  an  inhabitant  of  the  swamp,  and  of  low,  wet  regions, 
its  food  being  insects,  berries  and  small  mollusks.  The 
nests,  which  are  very  common  in  Nova  Scotia,  where  this 
bird  is  called  the  Black  Robin,  are  generally  found  in  spruce 
bushes  or  larch  groves,  about  wild  meadows  or  in  wet 
places;  so  that  the  memory  of  my  childhood  days  associates 
the  vigorous  chuck  and  the  metallic  vibrations  of  the  song 
of  this  species  with  these  elegant  Conifercz.  Mr.  E.  A. 
Samuels  found  the  nests  "on  the  Magalloway  River,  in 
Maine,"  placed  in  "the  low  alders  overhanging  the  water." 
Audubon  sometimes  found  them  "  among  the  tall  reeds  of 
the  Cat-tails,  or  Typha,  to  which  they  were  attached  by 
interweaving  the  leaves  of  the  plant  with  the  grasses  and 
strips  of  bark  of  which  they  were  externally  composed." 

The  nest  is  bulky,  firm  and  deep,  composed  outwardly  of 
small  sticks,  mosses  and  dried  grasses,  strongly  cemented 
together  with  mud,  and  well  lined  with  fine,  dried  grasses. 
The  eggs,  deposited  early  in  May,  in  Nova  Scotia,  where  I 
used  to  regard  five  as  the  usual  number,  though  four  are 
occasionally  found,  are  about  1.03  x  .^,  of  a  pale,  grayish- 
green,  somewhat  heavily  marked  with  several  shades  of 
brown  and  a  dull  lilac,  and  scratched  with  black.  As  in  the 


THE    YELLOW    WARBLER.  223 

case  of  the  Red-wings,  the  marking  varies  very  considerably 
in  different  sets.  I  have  seen  the  young  abroad  in  Nova 
Scotia  by  the  7th  of  June. 

The  Rusty  Grakle  is  a  little  more  than  9.00  long, 
and  some  14.50  in  extent.  Male,  in  spring,  glossy  black, 
some  of  the  feathers,  especially  underneath,  edged  with  a 
rusty-brown;  female,  slaty  or  rusty-brown  above,  rusty  and 
grayish  mixed  below,  with  a  pale  stripe  above  the  eye. 

The  young  birds  are  quite  brown  in  their  first  dress,  and 
in  all  stages  the  species  is  characterized  by  the  milk-white 
iris,  noticeable  at  quite  a  distance.  In  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain and  California  regions  this  species  is  replaced  by 
Brewer's  Blackbird,  or  the  Blue-headed  Grakle  (Scolecophagus 
cyanocephalus),  a  bird  of  very  similar  habits.  The  two  species 
generally  mingle  in  their  southern  migration  along  the  in- 
terior. 

THE    YELLOW    WARBLER. 

In  the  last  week  of  April  or  the  first  week  of  May,  as  the 
warm  currents  of  a  spring  atmosphere  are  wooing  into 
activity  every  germ  of  field  and  forest,  the  Yellow  Warbler 
(Dendrceca  (estiva)  reaches  us  in  immense  numbers.  You 
may  find  it  in  the  forest,  in  thickets  and  slashings,  quite 
as  numerous  in  the  orchard,  and  in  the  shrubbery  about 
the  garden  and  the  front-yard,  but  most  especially  does 
it  love  the  willows  by  the  brook,  with  the  yellow  spray  of 
which  its  golden  tints  are  particularly  in  harmony. 

In  dress  and  in  song  it  is  equally  conspicuous.  About 
the  size  of  the  Chipping  Sparrow,  some  5  inches  long, 
greenish-yellow  above,  and  golden-yellow  streaked  with 
red  beneath,  it  is  unmistakable  to  the  eye  as  it  moves 
among  the  opening  leaves  and  blossoms.  In  this  locality, 
we  have  no  other  really  yellow  bird  except  the  male  Gold- 
finch, and  he  is  readily  distinguished  by  his  black  crown, 


224  THE    YELLOW    WARBLER. 

wings  and  tail,  and  by  his  unique  voice  and  manners  in 
general.  The  song  of  the  Yellow,  Blue-eyed  Yellow, 
Golden,  or  Summer  Warbler — for  it  is  known  by  all  these 
common  names  —  may  be  represented  by  the  syllables,  wee- 
chee-wee-chee-wee-chee;  or,  sweet,  sweet,  sweet,  sweetie,  uttered  in 
sprightly,  whistling  tones. 

It  is  awakening  and  cheerful,  and  therefore  in  delightful 
harmony  with  its  time.  No  mere  promise  of  spring,  like 
the  Phcebe,  the  Robin,  or  the  Bluebird,  the  appearance  of 
the  Golden  Warbler  is  synchronous  with  spring  itself,  and 
inseparably  associated  with  the  most  genial  sunshine  and  the 
fragrance  of  flowers.  The  very  thought  of  his  melody  brings 
back  the  fruit  blossoms  and  the  merry  play  of  garden-mak- 
ing. Unlike  all  the  rest  of  the  Warblers,  that  seem  to  go  and 
come  wholly  at  the  bidding  of  the  sylvan  deities,  this  Blue- 
eyed  Beauty  seeks  the  society  of  man  as  well,  and  may 
confide  his  nest  to  the  shrubbery  about  the  walls  of  human 
dwellings;  aye,  he  will  even  be  pleased  to  accept  the  help  of 
human  hands  in  building  that  nest — constructing  it  with  the 
materials  placed  on  the  clothes-line  or  on  the  grass  for  him. 
A  nest  before  me,  the  building  of  which  was  thus  aided  by 
young  friends,  is  wholly  of  batting,  except  a  little  lining  of 
vegetable  down,  dried  grass  and  horse-hair,  and  so  looks  like 
a  snow-ball  or  a  bunch  of  wool.  This  Warbler's  nest  may  be 
found  in  the  woods,  the  swamp,  the  orchard,  the  garden  or 
the  front-yard,  and  is  generally  placed  in  the  upright  fork  of 
a  bush,  often  stuck  into  the  spray  anywhere,  rarely  on  a  hori- 
zontal limb.  Firmly  built  of  various  gray  fibrous  and  downy 
materials,  it  is  interlaced  and  bound  together  with  dried 
grasses  or  fine  rootlets,  sometimes  ornamented  like  bead- 
work  with  the  fallen  catkins  of  the  butternut  or  black 
walnut,  and  is  lined  with  the  down  of  the  thistle,  the  willow, 
or  the  reddish  wool-like  covering  of  the  unrolling  fronds  of 


THE    CATBIRD.  225 

various  ferns.  Thus  the  nest  is  grayish  outside  and  silken- 
white,  or  delicate  reddish,  inside.  The  walls  are  thick  and 
firm,  and  the  lining  is  as  soft  and  delicate  a  couch  as  any 
birdling  ever  pillowed  its  head  upon.  The  eggs,  some  four 
in  number,  about  .67  X. 50,  are  generally  grayish  or  greenish- 
white,  pretty  heavily  spotted,  sometimes  blotched  with 
brown  and  lilac,  and  are  very  variable.  Though  the  nest  is 
generally  built  by  the  last  of  May,  there  is  but  one  brood 
raised  in  this  locality,  and  the  birds  leave  us  for  the  south 
in  September. 

As  an  exception  to  the  whole  genus,  D.  astiva  has  no  white 
markings  in  the  tail,  except  that  the  quills  of  the  outer  tail- 
feathers  are  white.  The  young  being  for  some  time  with- 
out the  red  markings  beneath,  Audubon  at  first  made  them  a 
separate  species,  which  he  called  "the  Children's  Warbler." 

This  bird  shows  special  ingenuity  in  building  out  the 
Cow-bird's  egg,  sometimes  making  even  a  three-story  nest 
for  that  purpose;  although  it  is  not,  as  was  supposed  by  the 
earlier  ornithologists,  the  only  bird  resorting  to  this  expe- 
dient, the  Redstart,  Phcebe,  etc.,  discovering  the  same 
contrivance.  Covering  all  North  America  to  the  arctics, 
and  even  reaching  South  America  in  winter,  this  abundant 
species  is  especially  characteristic  of  our  continent. 

THE    CATBIRD. 

On  the  last  day  of  April,  as  I  paddle  my  canoe  along  the 
still  waters  of  Tonawanda,  I  spy  a  Catbird  (Mimus  caroli- 
nensis)  in  the  bushes  near  the  stream.  Only  9  inches  long^ 
of  a  plain  dark  drab  or  ash,  excepting  the  black  crown  and 
the  bright  chestnut  of  the  under  tail-coverts,  and  keeping  low 
among  the  thick  shrubbery,  this  bird  is  now  by  no  means  con- 
spicuous.* As  it  approaches  nidification,  about  the  last  of  May, 

*  I  once  saw  in  the  possession  of  Professor  W.  E.  D.  Scott,  of  Princeton,  a  Catbird  which 
was  as  white  as  a  white  rabbit. 

15 


226  THE   CATBIRD. 

however,  it  becomes  very  sprightly  and  noisy.  With  tail  well 
spread  and  crown-feathers  erect,  it  hops  and  flits  about  the 
thickets,  the  edges  of  the  woods,  the  swamps  and  the  thick 
shrubbery  of  the  garden,  the  most  wide-awake  bird  in  all 
these  haunts.  Upon  the  slightest  alarm,  it  will  mew  like 
a  scared  kitten,  imitating  this  feline  mammal  so  perfectly 
that  no  one  would  attribute  the  sound  to  the  throat  of  a 
bird.  Again,  it  startles  one  with  its  song,  which  is  very 
spirited  indeed,  and  in  the  sweetest  tones,  but  so  hurriedly 
uttered  that  it  would  seem  impossible  to  catch  its  full 
meaning.  Unquestionably  this  song  may  contain  pretty 
distinct  imitations  of  the  voices  of  other  birds,  but  I  fail  to 
detect  that  general  and  well-pronounced  capacity  of  a 
Mockingbird  so  often  attributed  to  it.  Why  need  he  repeat 
the  melodies  of  his  neighbors,  his  own  song,  like  that  of  the 
Brown  Thrush,  which  it  greatly  resembles,  is  sweet  enough 
of  itself.  It  differs  most  materially,  however,  from  the  song 
of  the  Thrushes  proper  —  birds  to  which  our  singer,  the 
Brown  Thrush,  and  the  distinguished  Mockingbird,  are 
so  closely  related  as  to  be  regarded  by  ornithologists  as  a 
branch  of  the  same  family.  When  the  Wood  Thrush  sings 
he  seems  to  breathe  out  his  very  soul  in  a  thoughtful 
melody.  There  is  a  musical  idea  in  every  note.  He  is  the 
Mozart  or  Beethoven-  of  his  class.  He  sings  because  he 
cannot  help  it.  He  sings  to  the  forest,  to  the  stream,  and 
to  the  evening  star.  The  Catbird  sings  on  purpose.  There 
is  no  sentiment  whatever  in  his  performance.  It  is  wholly 
a  play  upon  tones,  a  trick  of  the  vocal  organs;  and,  as  has 
been  justly  said,  always  implies  a  listener,  always  betrays 
self-consciousness.  The  notes  of  the  Wood  Thrush  inspires 
solemnity,  and  may  bring  one  into  a  mood  for  religious 
devotion;  those  of  the  Catbird  awaken  risibility,  and  put 
the  spirit  of  fun  and  mischief  into  one. 


THE    CATBIRD.  227 

"  Some  persons  do  not  admire  the  Catbird  on  account  of 
his  sombre  plumage,"  sayS  Susan  Fenimore  Cooper,  in  her 
delicious  "  Rural  Hours,"  "  but  the  rich  shaded  grays  of 
his  coat  strike  us  as  particularly  pleasing,  and  his  form  is 
elegant.  His  cry,  to  be  sure,  is  odd  enough  for  a  bird;  and 
sometimes  when  he  repeats  it  twenty  times  in  succession  in 
the  course  of  half  an  hour,  one  feels  inclined  to  box  his  ears. 
It  is  the  more  provoking  in  him  to  insult  us  in  this  way, 
because  some  of  his  notes,  when  he  chooses,  are  very 
musical — soft  and  liquid — as  different  as  possible  from  his 
harsh,  grating  cry.  Like  his  cousin,  the  Mockingbird,  he 
often  deserves  a  good  shaking  for  his  caprices,  both  belong- 
ing to  the  naughty  class  of  'birds  who  can  sing,  and  won't 
sing,'  except  when  it  suits  their  fancy." 

The  nest,  placed  in  a  bush  or  brush-pile,  is  constructed  of 
coarse  shreds  of  bark,  stalks  of  weeds,  and  dried  leaves, 
occasionally  ornamented  with  one  or  two  rags  or  feathers, 
and  lined  with  rootlets,  giving  the  inside  a  uniform  dark 
color,  which  is  quite  characteristic.  The  eggs,  commonly  4, 
some  .95  X. 70,  are  of  a  fine,  dark  bluish-green.  A  second 
brood  is  sometimes  raised. 

How  bravely  the  Catbird  will  attack  the  black  snake,  that 
arch-enemy  of  birds'  nests  on  and  near  the  ground,  wrig- 
gling about  vines  and  bushes  after  the  manner  of  a  more 
ancient  individual  of  his  kind,  almost  as  much  at  home  in  a 
tree  as  on  the  ground  —  how  our  bird  will  attack  him  with 
bill  and  claw,  and  not  infrequently  compel  him  to  retreat, 
has  been  noted  by  almost  every  ornithologist. 

In  spring  and  early  summer  the  food  of  the  Catbird  is 
insectivorous.  Larvae  in  general,  and  cutworms,  as  well  as 
winged  insects,  constitute  the  bulk  of  its  fare.  Later  in  the 
season  it  is  partial  to  small  fruits,  feeding  mostly  on  wild 
berries  of  swamps  and  thickets.  It  is  therefore  the  friend 


228  THE    WATER    THRUSH, 

and  ally  of  the  husbandman,  and  should  never  be  the  sub- 
ject of  persecution;  and  especially  because  of  the  partiality 
it  shows  for  the  vicinage  of  man,  being  almost  entirely  con- 
fined to  the  improved  and  cultivated  regions  of  the  country, 
and  more  or  less  common  about  our  dwellings. 

The  Middle  States  are  the  favorite  breeding  region  of 
this  bird.  Reported  as  rare  in  Northern  New  England,  it 
breeds  commonly  in  Nova  Scotia  and  on  the  Red  River  of  the 
north,  on  the  Saskatchawan,  in  the  cultivated  parts  of  the 
Central  Plains,  and  on  the  Columbia  River.  It  is  resident 
in  the  Southern  States,  but  many  pass  the  winter  far 
beyond.  It  leaves  the  Middle  States  for  the  south  in  Sep- 
tember or  October. 

THE    WATER    THRUSH. 

On  this  last  day  of  April,  I  every  now  and  then  hear  the 
spirited  notes  of  the  Water  Thrush  (Seiurus  noveboracensis). 
I  sometimes  hear  them  even  a  week  earlier.  I  hardly  know 
whether  to  call  these  notes  a  song  or  not.  They  are  not  at 
all  like  those  sylvan  melodies,  which  seem  the  overflow  of 
quiet  joy  from  happy  natures;  but  are  rather  a  strong  utter- 
ance of  surprise,  as  if  the  bird  had  made  some  exciting 
discovery — perhaps  your  own  unwelcome  presence  —  and 
wished  to  express  some  feeling  of  alarm  or  disapproval. 
Chee-chee-chee-chee-choo-choo-choo-choo-choo-thoo,  beginning  with 
a  somewhat  high  and  loud  note,  and  gradually  dropping 
down  softer  and  lower,  the  whole  with  an  increasing  rapid- 
ity, might  represent  this  vocal  performance.  As  Wilson 
and  Audubon  evidently  gave  us  only  the  history  of  that 
delightful  songster,  the  Louisiana,  or  Large-billed  Water 
Thrush,  and  subsequent  writers  have  been  more  or  less  con- 
fused as  to  the  voices  of  this  and  our  more  northern  or 
common  Water  Thrush,  ornithological  readings  do  not  pre- 


THE    WATER    THRUSH.  229 

pare  us  for  this  so-called  song,  as  above  described;  and  yet 
I  fail  to  detect  in  it  any  other  melody,  or  any  other  note, 
except  that  sharp  chip,  chip,  common  to  its  genus. 

Having  the  dress  of  a  Thrush,  and  the  dainty,  dove-like 
gait  as  well  as  the  jerking  of  the  tail,  so  characteristic  of 
the  Titlarks,  while  the  structure  is  more  allied  to  that  of  the 
Warblers,  this  species  and  its  congeners  —  the  Louisiana 
Water  Thrush,  and  the  Golden-crowned  Thrush  —  have 
greatly  puzzled  our  ornithologists.  After  calling  them 
Thrushes  for  some  time,  and  then  Titlarks  or  Wagtails,  the 
greater  importance  of  structural  affinity  over  and  above  mere 
appearance  or  analogy  has  finally  placed,  th^m  among  the 
Warblers  —  "Terrestrial  Warblers,"  Coues  calls  them. 

The  Water  Thrush  is  commonly  quite  shy,  and  manages 
to  keep  well  out  of  sight  while  one  is  moving  around;  but 
if  you  will  sit  down  and  remain  quiet,  it  will  perambulate 
about  quite  freely,  and  allow  you  a  good  view  of  its  trim 
form,  some  5.50-6.00  inches  long,  and  of  a  rich  olivaceous- 
brown  coat  and  cap,  and  yellowish-white  eye-brows  and 
under  parts,  the  latter  thickly  spotted  in  streaks  with  brown. 

Being  almost  constantly  on  or  near  the  ground,  this  so- 
called  Thrush  is  a  ground-builder;  and,  true  to  its  name, 
keeps  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  water,  generally  in  the 
partially  submerged  shrubbery  of  a  swamp.  Here  the  nest 
may  be  found  at  the  root  of  a  tree  or  stump,  or  stuck  into 
the  side  of  a  partially  decayed  and  moss-covered  log.  It  is 
composed  of  sticks,  dried  grasses,  moss  and  fine  fibrous 
material;  and  contains  four  eggs,  about  .85  x  -67,  delicate 
white,  specked  with  light-red.  It  may  be  found  in  this 
locality  late  in  May  or  early  in  June.  I  have  found  the 
young  out  of  the  nest  by  the  19th  of  June.  Habitat,  East- 
ern North  America,  up  to  high  latitudes.  I  found  it  breeding 
in  Nova  Scotia.  Its  northwestward  trend  is  to  Montana, 


230  THE    WATER    THRUSH. 

and  even  to  Alaska;  south  in  winter,  into  the  West  Indies, 
Central  America,  and  even  South  America. 

The  Large-billed  Water  Thrush  (Seiurus  ludovicianus) , 
though  very  similar  to  the  above,  both  in  appearance  and 
in  habit,  is  nevertheless  clearly  differentiated  by  its  greater 
size,  larger  bill,  buffy-white  under  parts,  instead  of  yellow- 
ish-white, its  more  southern  habitat,  and  its  marvelous 
powers  of  song. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE    THIRD    OF    MAY. 

JT  is  the  3d  of  May  and  we  are  just  in  the  thickest  of  the 
spring  migration  of  our  birds.  Considered  in  all  its  rela- 
tions, this  regular  movement  of  the  birds  is  one  of  the 
most  wonderful  facts  in  nature.  Coming  such  an  immense 
distance,  many  of  them  from  the  tropics  to  the  far  north, 
often  one  or  two  thousand  miles,  how  can  they  time  them- 
selves so  well?  No  matter  what  the  weather  is,  or  the 
character  of  the  season,  I  know  within  a  few  days  at  most, 
in  many  cases  almost  within  a  few  hours,  when  to  expect 
each  species.*  Not  many  hours  from  the  morning  of 
the  7th  of  April  I  may  be  sure  of  the  pleasing  melody 
of  the  Bay-winged  Bunting,  or  Grass  Finch;  and  as  soon  as 
one  appears,  they  become  almost  numberless.  About  the 
1st  of  May  I  may  expect  the  Catbird,  the  Indigo-bird,  the 
Redstart,  the  Black-throated  Blue  Warbler,  and  the  Yellow 
Warbler;  and  about  a  week  later  arrive  the  Golden-crowned 
Warbler,  the  Rose-breasted  Grosbeak,  and  the  Wood  Thrush. 
This  exact  time  of  arrival  adds  a  delightful  interest  to 
the  study  of  ornithology.  I  wait  for  the  coming  of  the 
birds,  especially  for  my  favorite  ones,  as  for  the  coming  of 
my  friends.  As  our  rugged  winter  wears  away,  I  count  the 
weeks  and  the  days. 

*  This  is  particularly  true  of  the  land-birds.  Many  of  the  water-birds  (but  by  no  means 
all  of  them),  especially  such  as  migrate  along  the  water-courses  of  the  interior,  may  be 
governed  considerably  by  the  nature  of  the  season. 


232  MIGRA  TION. 

The  time  of  arrival,  as  also  of  departure,  though  so 
exact  in  each  case,  varies  greatly  with  different  species. 
The  Robin,  the  Bluebird,  the  various  Blackbirds,  the 
Phoebe,  the  Killdeer,  the  Meadow  Lark  and  the  Song 
Sparrow  arrive  before  winter  is  over,  and  are  thus  the  har- 
bingers of  spring;  but  Thrushes,  Warblers,  Cuckoos,  and 
the  Flycatchers  generally,  come  with  the  spring  flowers  and 
the  tender  foliage.  "The  Indian  of  the  fur  countries,  in 
forming  his  rude  calendar,  names  the  recurring  moons 
after  the  Birds-of -passage,  whose  arrival  is  coincident  with 
their  changes." 

Those  birds  which  arrive  first  stay  latest,  and  the  latest 
visitants  are  the  first  to  depart.  For  the  most  part,  the 
males  are  the  first  on  the  ground  in  the  spring,  while  the 
females  or-  the  young  lead  the  van  in  the  fall;  and  it  is 
pretty  certain  that  those  individuals  spending  the  summer 
farthest  north  also  winter  farther  north  than  those  of  the 
same  species  which  do  not  reach  such  high  latitudes.  It 
may  also  be  set  down  as  a  general  law  that  those  species 
which  spend  the  summer  farthest  north  also  winter  farthest 
south. 

Many  kinds  of  birds,  especially  such  as  fly  high  and 
encounter  but  slight  danger,  perform  their  passage  in  part 
or  wholly  by  day;  but  those  passing  near  the  ground,  or 
experiencing  special  dangers  by  the  way,  almost  invariably 
move  under  cover  of  the  night.  It  is  probable  that  the 
divers — such  as  Loons  and  Grebes — make  their  passages 
mostly  in  the  water,  following  the  great  water-courses; 
while  certain  running  birds,  as  the  Rails,  achieve  a  great 
part  of  their  journey  a-foot. 

Our  North  American  birds  seem  to  migrate  year  after 
year  in  certain  lines,  toward  the  north  in  the  spring,  and 
again  toward  the  south  in  autumn.  For  instance,  of  the 


MIGRA  770 AT.  233 

immense  number  of  birds  wintering  in  Florida,  some  regu- 
larly follow  the  more  easterly  parts,  while  others,  pursuing 
a  more  interior  route,  trend  away  to  the  northwest;  so  that 
a  number  of  observers,  forming  a  line  from  east  to  west 
across  these  lines  of  migration,  would  each  find,  year  after 
year,  certain  passengers  peculiar  to  his  station.  The  Atlan- 
tic Coast  and  the  Mississippi — Father  of  Waters  —  would 
seem  to  be  the  main  thoroughfares.*  Again,  the  regular 
route  in  the  autumn  for  some  species  is  not  the  same  as 
that  of  the  spring.  Some  species,  and  perhaps  it  may  be 
said  the  birds  in  general,  return  to  the  same  spot  for  nidifi- 
cation  from  year  to  year.  The  Barn  Swallows  return  to  the 
old  home  on  the  rafter  with  great  demonstrations  of  joy  at 
each  arrival;  the  Bluebird  and  the  Martin  return  regularly  to 
their  tenement;  the  Bird  of  Prey  seeks  out  its  old  eyrie,  and 
even  the  song-bird  of  the  forest,  which  achieves  the  longest 
migration,  is  known  to  rebuild  near  its  former  site.  It  is 
said  that  from  year  to  year  "  the  immortal  Naumann  knew 
all  his  little  feathered  friends,  near  his  house,  by  their 
songs." 

How  does  each  species,  or  individual,  trace  its  pathway 
with  such  marked  regularity  and  certainty?  Whoever 
would  account  for  this,  by  the  bird's-eye  view  of  the  main 
points  of  landscape  which  the  migrant  is  supposed  to  com- 
mand from  its  lofty  aerial  pathway,  must  attribute  to  the 
bird  a  higher  reasoning  faculty  in  combining  the  general 
effect  of  the  extended  scenery  through  which  it  passes  than 
it  could  seem  to  possess;  and  at  the  same  time  fails  to  find 
the  route  for  the  vast  numbers  moving  low,  or  under  cover 
of  the  night.  Nor  do  the  young  always  avail  themselves  of 
the  more  experienced;  and  unless  the  bird  be  endowed  with 
an  intelligence  immeasurably  above  that  of  man,  would  it 

*  A  careful  study  of  the  facts  in  the  Old  World  has  rendered  it  certain  that  great  water- 
courses, and  their  adjoining  valleys,  are  the  main  thoroughfares  of  migration. 


234  MIGRA  TION. 

not  require  a  great  deal  of  experience  to  secure  so  wonder- 
ful a  result  with  so  much  certainty?  Here  is  a  mystery 
which  the  most  careful  study  can  only  enhance.  In  that 
mystery  who  does  not  exclaim: 

There  is  a  power  whose  care 

Teaches  thy  way  along  that  pathless  coast, 

The  desert  and  the  illimitable  air." 

The  manner  of  the  birds  in  their  passage  is  in  every  way 
interesting.  There  is  often  much  ceremony  by  way  of 
preparation  for  the  journey.  Some  go  singly  or  in  pairs, 
others  in  families  or  flocks,  these  moving  communities  some- 
times being  enormous.  The  Swallows  will  gather  in  im- 
mense flocks,  perching  in  dense  lines  on  the  ridge  of  the  old 
barn  or  along  the  telegraph  wires,  and  laugh  and  chatter  as 
if  their  formidable  journey  were  to  be  the  merriest  ching 
possible;  the  vast  assemblages  of  the  several  kinds  of  Black- 
birds, generally  each  kind  by  itself,  will  fairly  darken  the 
corn-fields  and  the  meadows;  and  the  Robins  will  assemble 
with  a  subdued  but  peculiar  hilarity.  Generally  there  is 
the  greatest  possible  difference  between  the  spring  and  the 
fall  migrations,  the  former  being  hurried,  jubilant,  and  full 
of  song;  the  latter  leisurely,  quiet,  and  comparatively  voice- 
less. 

It  is  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  best  European  observers 
that  the  more  hurried  and  joyous  the  vernal  migration,  the 
earlier  and  more  genial  will  be  the  spring,  and  that  loitering 
or  hesitation  betokens  the  opposite;  while  the  more  leisurely 
the  southward  movement,  the  greater  the  probability  of  an 
easy  winter,  and  vice  versa. 

Gregarious  species,  especially  the  water-fowl,  often  move 
in  the  most  exact  and  beautiful  order.  Who  has  not 
noticed  the  flight  of  Wild  Geese,  Ducks  and  Plover,  in 
the  form  of  a  V,  a  straight  line,  or  a  graceful  curve  ?  As 


MIGRA  TlOtf.  235 

the  leader  cleaves  the  air  with  a  special  outlay  of  strength, 
he  every  now  and  then  drops  into  the  rear  in  the  easier  line 
of  the  wake,  some  other  one  taking  up  the  task  in  front. 
The  European  Storks  are  said  to  perform,  every  now  and 
then,  the  most  beautiful  evolutions  on  their  way,  after 
which  they  move  straight  forward  as  usual.  In  heavy  fogs 
or  dark  nights  birds  fly  low,  and  that  often  at  their  peril. 
Not  infrequently  they  lie  over  during  weather  especially 
unfavorable.  All  such  as  take  long  and  high  flights  prefer 
the  moonlight  and  the  wind  ahead.  Wind  in  the  rear  is 
very  unfavorable.  Not  infrequently  birds  prefer  to  travel 
under  the  leadership  of  the  more  experienced  of  their  class. 

Very  noticeable,  indeed,  is  the  effect  of  this  regular 
migration  in  any  locality.  Compute  the  probable  number 
of  any  one  species,  as  the  Bay-winged  Sparrow,  or  the  Balti- 
more Oriole,  for  instance,  contained  in  every  square  mile  of 
their  summer  habitat,  and  imagine  the  immense  tidal  wave 
which,  at  the  exact  time  for  each  species,  moves  along  the  en- 
tire breadth  of  the  line  of  march.  The  more  brilliant  varieties 
everywhere  appeal  to  the  eye;  and,  as  they  reach  their  sum- 
mer residence,  each  kind  of  the  birds  of  song  makes  the  air 
more  resonant  with  its  peculiar  melody.  How  the  arrival 
of  any  numerous  species  modifies  the  entire  phase  of  a 
rural  district !  The  field  and  orchard  teem  with  a  new  and 
happy  life,  and  from  the  forest  comes  the  finest  of  nature's 
melodies. 

In  Eastern  North  America,  the  birds  migrate  in  greater 
numbers  and  over  a  greater  reach  of  country  th#n  in  any 
other  part  of  the  world;  therefore,  I  am  especially  led  to 
inquire  how  this  wonderful  thing  is  accomplished.  What 
strange  and  mighty  impulse  is  this  which,  inspiring  the 
breasts  of  such  countless  multitudes  at  the  same  moment, 
carries  them  on  through  bitter  storms  and  numberless  perils 


236  MIGRA  TION. 

to  such  immense  distances  ?  Even  those  species  of  migratory 
birds  which  have  been  confined  for  many  months,  and  seem 
perfectly  tame,  dash  violently  against  the  sides  of  their  cage, 
and  the  tamed  Canada  Goose  becomes  wild  again  at  the 
call  of  his  species  in  their  northward  flight,  and  abandon- 
ing all  his  new  relationships,  rises  to  join  t"hem. 

Mr.  A.  R.  Wallace,  in  his  great  work  on  the  Geographical 
Distribution  of  Animals,  states  what  he  conceives  to  be  the 
natural  causes  for  this  wonderful  phenomenon. 

He  suggests  "  that  the  instinct  of  migration  has  arisen 
from  the  habit  of  wandering  in  search  of  food  common  to 
all  animals,  but  is  greatly  exaggerated  in  the  case  of  birds 
by  their  power  of  flight  and  by  the  necessity  for  procur- 
ing a  large  amount  of  soft  insect-food  for  their  unfledged 
young."  This  might  explain  certain  more  or  less  irregular 
movements  of  birds,  which  are  termed  partial  migrations, 
but  is  by  no  means  sufficient  to  account  for  all  the  wonder- 
ful facts  of  regular  migration.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  insect- 
life  becomes  much  more  abundant  as  we  approach  the 
warmer  regions  of  the  globe,  the  larvae  of  most  kinds  of 
insects  appearing  at  different  times  throughout  the  season; 
hence  we  are  not  surprised  to  find  large  numbers  of  birds, 
of  about  every  order,  breeding  and  residing  permanently  in 
the  more  southern  parts  of  our  continent.  Moreover,  not  a 
few  species  breed  almost  indifferently  in  any  part  of  East- 
ern North  America,  to  quite  high  latitudes,  nesting  at  an 
earlier  or  later  period  of  the  entire  breeding  season,  in 
accordance  with  their  more  northern  or  more  southern 
location.  Since  nature  yields  so  readily  to  ordinary  causes, 
might  not  the  birds  generally  find  it  more  convenient  to 
adjust  the  time  of  their  nidification  to  that  period  of  the 
year  when  insect  larvae  abound  in  the  more  southern  lati- 
tudes, than  to  travel  such  immense  distances,  encountering 


MIGRATION.  237 

wind  and  storm,  and  perils  innumerable?  The  perils  which 
birds  encounter  in  their  migrations  are  inconceivable  to  those 
unacquainted  with  the  facts.  Overcome  by  adverse  winds 
and  storms  of  great  severity,  immense  numbers  become 
exhausted  and  perish,  as  is  shown  by  the  numbers  of  the 
small  land-birds  drifting  on  to  the  shores  of  the  Great 
Lakes  after  very  severe  storms.  Attracted  and  dazed  by 
the  light-houses  stationed  here  and  there,  so  many  dash 
their  lives  out  against  them  as  to  render  these  points  of 
incalculable  interest  to  the  observer.  The  continuous  net- 
work of  telegraph  wires  spread  over  the  country  maims 
and  destroys  countless  numbers.  After  heavy  storms, 
during  their  migrations,  hundreds  of  Ducks  have  been 
picked  up  dead  on  a  single  morning  on  Niagara  River, 
below  the  Falls,  they  having  flown  into  the  great  cataract 
and  perished. 

Again,  the  same  author  says:  "If  we  go  back  only  as 
far  as  the  height  of  the  glacial  epoch,  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  all  North  America,  as  far  south  as  about  40° 
north  latitude,  was  covered  with  an  almost  continuous  and 
perennial  ice-sheet.  At  this  time  the  migratory  birds  would 
extend  up  to  this  barrier  (which  would  probably  terminate 
in  the  midst  of  luxuriant  vegetation,  just  as  the  glaciers  of 
Switzerland  now  often  terminate  amM  forests  and  corn- 
fields), and  as  the  cold  decreased  and  the  ice  retired  almost 
imperceptibly  year  by  year,  would  follow  it  up  farther  and 
farther,  according  as  the  peculiarities  of  vegetation  and 
insect-food  were  more  or  less  suited  to  their  several  consti- 
tutions." The  only  possible  interpretation  of  this  passage 
would  seem  to  be  that  the  birds,  being  held  in  the  south  by 
the  glacial  epoch,  followed  up  the  recession  of  the  cold  at 
the  closing  of  that  period,  and  ever  since  have  kept  up  the 
same  movement  in  annual  accommodation  to  cold  and  ice,. 


238  MIGRA  TION. 

simply  to  find  suitable  food.  The  question  naturally  arises, 
since  all  varieties  of  bird-food  abound  in  the  south,  why 
should  a  berry,  a  grain,  a  seed,  or  a  caterpillar,  be  so  much 
more  palatable  in  the  north  ?  Nor  are  our  regular  migrants 
generally  driven  back  from  the  north  by  hunger  and  cold. 
Nearly  all  our  migratory  birds  leave  for  the  south  either 
during  the  fine  and  fruitful  days  of  late  summer,  or  in  the 
most  brilliant  and  balmy  days  of  autumn,  when  they  are 
well  covered  with  an  extra  coat  of  fat,  and  give  forth  a 
pleasing  repetition  of  the  gladsome  lays  of  spring;  and  in 
most  cases  they  evidently  go  much  further  than  is  neces- 
sary to  find  food  and  mild  weather.  In  the  gala-days  of 
spring  when  most  birds  make  their  passage,  the  weather 
and  resources  of  food  are  such  that  the  whole  journey  is 
one  continuous  festivity. 

Mr.  Wallace  admits  that  "  the  most  striking  fact  in  favor 
of  the  'instinct'  of  migration  is  the  'agitation,'  or  excite- 
ment, of  confined  birds  at  the  time  when  their  wild  com- 
panions are  migrating,"  but  thinks  this  "a  social  excitement 
due  to  the  anxious  cries  of  the  migrating  birds."  No  doubt 
the  tame  bird  may  be  affected  by  the  cry  of  its  fellow,  but 
those  not  within  the  reach  of  such  cry,  nor  even  within 
sight  of  their  passing  relatives,  seem  equally  excited  in  the 
time  of  regular  migration,  spending  the  whole  night  in  use- 
less efforts  to  free  themselves.  Moreover,  how  came  these 
birds  in  confinement,  these  life-long  prisoners  shut  out  from 
the  society  of  their  kind,  to  recognize  each  the  call  of  its 
fellows,  and  to  comprehend  its  meaning?  Again,  the  same 
writer  says:  "We  must  remember,  too,  that  migration,  at 
the  proper  time,  is  in  many  cases  absolutely  essential  to  the 
existence  of  the  species;  and  it  is  therefore  not  improbable 
that  some  strong,  social  emotion  should  have  been  gradu- 
ally developed  in  the  race,  by  the  circumstance  that  all 


MIGRA  TION.  239 

who  for  want  of  such  emotion  did  not  join  their  fellows 
inevitably  perished."  As  to  the  first  clause  of  this  state- 
ment, we  know  that  birds  occasionally  nest  very  far  from 
their  ordinary  breeding  habitat,  and  for  aught  we  can  see 
they  might  always  do  so;  and  as  to  the  second  clause,  the 
query  naturally  arises,  how  came  the  sad  fate  of  the  few 
delinquents  that  "  inevitably  perished  "  on  failing  to  migrate 
to  become  so  generally  known  and  so  deeply  affecting  ?  It 
is,  marvelous  what  an  amount  of  loose  speculation  may 
pass  for  science  !  No;  neither  the  wisdom  of  the  birds,  nor 
the  force  of  circumstances,  however  stern,  can  account  for 
the  wonderful  phenomena  connected  with  the  regular  mi- 
gration of  birds.  It  would  seem  that  this,  like  so  many 
other  persistent  habits  in  animated  nature,  must  be  caused 
by  the  laws  of  instinct,  superintended  by  an  Infinite  Intelli- 
gence. Nor  should  we  be  stumbled  because  we,  in  the  close 
limitations  of  our  finiteness,  cannot  conceive  how  the  Infinite 
and  Omnipresent  can  touch  these  innumerable  springs  of 
activity  in  animated  nature.  With  proper  evidence,  there 
should  be  room  for  faith. 

One  very  naturally  sympathizes  with  Audubon  in  his 
reflections  on  the  bleak  coasts  of  Labrador.  "That  the 
Creator  should  have  ordered  that  millions  of  diminutive, 
tender  creatures  should  cross  spaces  of  country,  in  all 
appearance  a  thousand  times  more  congenial  for  all  their 
purposes,  to  reach  this  poor,  desolate  and  deserted  land,  to 
people  it,  as  it  were,  for  a  time,  and  to  cause  it  to  be  enli- 
vened with  the  songs  of  the  sweetest  of  the  feathered  musi- 
cians, for  only  two  months,  at  most,  and  then,  by  the  same 
extraordinary  instinct,  should  cause  them  all  to  suddenly 
abandon  the  country,  is  as  wonderful  as  it  is  beautiful  and 
grand." 


240  THE  BALTIMORE   ORIOLE. 

THE    BALTIMORE    ORIOLE. 

O,  these  days  of  life  and  song !  they  are  but  too  short 
and  fleeting !  I  go  into  my  study,  in  the  early  morning, 
and  sit  by  the  open  window  which  overlooks  the  village 


THE   BALTIMORE   ORIOLE. 

nestling  among  the  trees.  What  a  delicious  fragrance  floats 
on  the  breeze !  What  can  be  more  suggestive  of  Paradise 
than  this  delightful  chorus  of  birds,  and  this  budding  and 
blooming  of  spring? 

Ah!  my  old  favorite,  the  Baltimore  Oriole  (Icterus  balti- 
more),  has  arrived  during  the  night.  I  hear  his  loud,  sweet 
whistle  in  the  large  elm  just  across  the  way.  Now  he  has 
passed  directly  before  the  window,  and  lit  in  full  view  in 
the  orchard.  He  is  well  worthy  of  the  epithet  "  Golden  "  in 
his  old  familiar  name,  Golden  Robin,  only  he  is  no  Robin  at 
all;  and  if  Lord  Baltimore,  for  whom  he  is  named,  could  have 
equaled  his  brilliancy  in  the  colors  of  his  coat-of-arms,  he  was 
a  gay  fellow  to  lead  a  persecuted  people  into  the  wilderness. 
Most  appropriate  of  all,  I  think,  is  this  bird's  Indian  name, 
"  Fire-bird."  Appearing  to  the  best  advantage  as  he  flies 
from  you,  does  not  that  rump  of  bright  orange,  surrounded 
by  the  jet-black  of  his  head,  shoulders,  wings  and  tail,  glow 
like  a  burning  coal?  And,  as  he  spreads  his  tail  in  lighting, 


THE  BALTIMORE   ORTOLE.  241 

are  not  those  light-orange  outer  feathers  of  the  same  about 
to  burst  into  a  flame?  The  brightest  orange,  however,  is  on 
the  breast,  becoming  lighter  on  the  sides  and  under  parts; 
and  in  the  brightest  specimens,  even  the  white  of  the  wing- 
coverts  is  tinged  with  the  same.  His  female,  who  may 
arrive  in  a  day  or  two,  or  may  linger  behind  more  than  a 
week,  has  but  a  general  resemblance,  being  much  duller  in 
color  and  marking. 

Hero,  hero,  hero:  Cheery,  cheery,  cheery:  Cheer -up,  cheer -up, 
cheer-up:  are  among  his  common  notes,  generally  coming 
from  among  the  swaying  branches  of  the  taller  trees;  but 
sometimes  also  from  the  bushes,  and  even  from  the  fence. 
Occasionally,  only,  is  he  seen  on  the  ground,  and  then  he 
appears  as  much  out  of  place  as  a  gentleman  in  broadcloth 
and  kid-gloves  digging  a  ditch,  or  guiding  a  plow.  On 
some  minds  the  effect  of  the  song  of  birds  is  very  great. 
The  most  sprightly  cheerfulness  is  particularly  emphasized 
in  the  song  of  the  Baltimore.  How  I  have  been  cheered  by 
it,  in  certain  days  dark  with,  sorrow,  I  cannot  easily  forget. 
Hence  his  first  note  awakens  a  throng  of  tender  reminis- 
cences, and  his  return  is  always  an  event  of  the  season. 
And  yet  that  song  has  but  little  compass  or  variety.  Its 
effect  is  wholly  in  the  tones.  The  notes  are  almost  monoto- 
nous, unless,  indeed,  he  has  learned  to  imitate  the  note  or 
song  of  some  bird  by  the  way,  one  which  never  reaches  us, 
and  so  leaves  the  acquired  song  a  mystery  to  us;  a  peculiar 
attainment  of  the  Baltimore,  in  which  his  voice  may  become 
quite  flexible.  Unquestionably  he  has  quite  a  faculty  for 
imitation.  Besides  his  song  he  has  a  spirited  twitter,  or 
rattle,  when  in  combat,  and  when  winning  the  female. 
He  has  also  a  single  note,  corresponding  to  the  com- 
mon chipping  of  birds  when  alarmed  about  their  nest  or 
young.  But  all  his  noise  will  soon  be  over.  Incubation 
16 


242  THE  BALTIMORE    ORIOLE. 

once  begun,  he  is  one  of  the  quietest  of  birds  and  remains 
so  till  after  the  moult,  during  which  event  he  is  rarely  to 
be  seen;  then  returning  to  the  vicinity  of  the  late  nesting 
place  in  the  orchard  or  grove,  he  will  be  almost  as  gay,  and 
sprightly,  and  musical,  in  the  midst  of  his  full-grown  family, 
now  making  ready  to  depart  for  some  more  genial  clime,  as 
he  was  in  the  hilarious  days  of  the  nuptial  season. 

A  very  "castle  in  the  air"  is  the  Baltimore's  pensile  nest, 
as  it  sways  and  rocks  on  an  elastic  branch  of  some  tree,  in 
the  front-yard,  the  orchard,  the  grove  or  the  forest.  In  this 
locality  a  partiality  is  shown  for  the  graceful  drooping 
branches  of  the  elm.  Wherever  placed,  it  seldom  fails  to  be 
under  a  canopy  of  leaves.  Generally  in  the  form  of  a  bag 
some  six  or  seven  inches  deep,  round  at  the  bottom,  and 
hung  to  slender  fork-shaped  limbs  by  the  edges,  the  limbs 
thus  serving  to  hold  it  open,  it  is  the  most  noticeable  bird's 
nest  in  field  or  forest.  The  material  is  almost  anything  in 
the  form  of  long  strips  or  threads  that  can  be  easily  woven — 
thin,  gray, -vegetable  fibers,  yarn,  twine,  interlaced  in  every 
possible  manner,  and  well  sewed  together  with  horse-hair. 
The  walls  are  so  thin  and  open  as  to  let  the  air  through 
readily.  The  bottom  is  a  thick  cushion  of  vegetable  down 
and  hair.  A  gentleman  in  Pennsylvania  once  hung  out 
bright  and  various  colored  zephyrs,  which  the  bird  wove  into 
a  most  brilliant  and  fantastic  fabric.  Says  Wilson:  "So 
solicitous  is  the  Baltimore  to  procure  proper  materials  for 
his  nest  that,  in  the  season  of  building,  the  women  in  the 
country  are  under  necessity  of  narrowly  watching  their 
thread  that  may  chance  to  be  out  bleaching,  and  the  farmer 
to  secure  his  young  grafts;  as  the  Baltimore,  finding  the 
.former,  and  the  strings  which  tie  the  latter,  so  well  adapted 
for  his  purpose,  frequently  carries  off  both;  or  should  the 
one  be  too  heavy,  and  the  other  too  firmly  tied,  he  will  tug 


THE  BALTIMORE   ORIOLE.  243 

at  them  a  considerable  time  before  he  gives  up  the  attempt. 
Skeins  of  silk  and  hanks  of  thread  have  been  often  found, 
after  the  leaves  were  fallen,  hanging  around  the  Baltimore's 
nest;  but  so  woven  up  and  entangled  as  to  be  entirely 
irreclaimable.  Before  the  introduction  of  Europeans,  no 
such  material  could  have  been  obtained  here;  but,  with  the 
sagacity  of  a  good  architect,  he  has  improved  this  circum- 
stance to  his  advantage;  and  the  strongest  and  best  mate- 
rials are  uniformly  found  in  those  parts  by  which  the  whole 
is  supported." 

Great  sagacity  and  skill  are  shown  in  adapting  the  form 
of  the  nest  to  circumstances.  Audubon  observes  that  the 
walls  of  the  nest  are  thinner,  or  thicker,  and  that  it  is  placed 
on  the  warmer,  or  cooler,  side  of  the  tree,  according  as  the 
location  is  northern  or  southern.  Two  nests,  lately  found 
by  Mr.  Eugene  Ringueberg,  of  Lockport,  N.  Y.,  are  very 
suggestive  as  to  the  intelligence  of  the  bird.  One  was 
hung  on  the  string  of  a  kite  caught  in  an  apple-tree.  Closed 
at  the  top  in  the  form  of  a  cone,  its  opening,  high  on  one 
side,  was  a  sort  of  projecting  porch  of  closely  woven  horse- 
hair, which,  as  the  nest  could  turn  in  any  direction,  served 
as  the  tail  of  a  weather-cock,  and  turning  constantly  to  the 
leeward  side,  kept  the  entrance  from  the  storm.  The  other, 
being  built  on  two  slender  twigs,  was  too  poorly  supported 
for  the  weight  of  the  bird.  In  this  emergency,  a  strong 
piece  of  twine  was  woven  into  one  side,  carried  up  over 
two  firm  branches,  and  well  fastened  into  the  other  side, 
thus  making  the  nest  fully  secure.  Here  was  no  mean 
exercise  of  the  reasoning  faculty.  Those  who  study  the 
animal  kingdom  most  will  have  the  highest  opinion  of  its 
intelligence. 

The  eggs,  generally  four  or  five  in  a  set,  some  ".90  X  .60" 
of  an  inch,  are  white,  slightly  tinged  with  brown,  and 


244  THE  BALTIMORE   ORIOLE. 

sparsely  but  irregularly  scratched  in  every  direction,  as  if 
with  a  pen,  in  both  light  and  heavystrokes  with  black  or  dark 
brown;  some  of  these  marks  being  obscure,  as  if  partially 
washed  off.  As  generally  with  birds  of  its  size,  incubation 
occupies  some  two  weeks.  The  young  resemble  the  female, 
but  Audubon  thinks  that  the  young  males  acquire  their 
bright  colors  the  first  year. 

The  Baltimore  Oriole  is  a  great  devourer  of  insects;  but 
like  other  birds  of  that  kind  of  diet,  he  will  occasionally 
affect  a  change.  Once,  after  a  spring  shower,  when  the 
peach-trees  were  in  bloom,  a  beautiful  male  lit  in  one  just 
against  a  window.  All  unconscious  of  my  presence,  though 
I  was  scarcely  more  than  two  feet  from  him,  he  began  mov- 
ing up  and  down  the  limbs  in  that  gliding,  athletic  manner 
peculiar  to  himself,  ever  and  anon  inserting  his  bill  into  the 
cup-like  calyx  of  the  blossoms.  Could  he  be  drinking  the 
new-fallen  rain-drops?  Scarcely;  for  he  did  not  raise  his 
head  to  swallow.  Looking  a  little  more  closely,  I  saw  that 
he  was  eating  the  stamens.  Let  not  the  fruit-grower 
be  alarmed,  however,  for  nature  has  provided  many 
more  blossoms  than  is  necessary  for  a  good  crop.  It  may 
be  that  the  Baltimore  is  simply  thinning  them  to  advan- 
tage. 

With  us,  as  in  many  other  parts  of  our  country,  this  is  one 
of  the  most  numerous  and  well-known  of  all  the  birds; 
while  his  brilliancy,  his  loud  and  happy  notes,  and  his 
abundant  appearance  in  shade  trees,  orchards,  fields,  forests, 
and  even  in  the  heart  of  our  great  cities  at  the  same  time, 
fully  make  known  the  morning  of  his  arrival.  Wintering 
in  Mexico,  Central  America,  Cuba,  etc.,  he  breeds  nearly 
throughout  the  Eastern  United  States,  and,  becoming  rare 
in  Northern  New  England,  barely  extends  into  the  British 
Provinces.  He  belongs,  therefore,  to  the  Alleghanian  Fauna. 


THE   ORCHARD   ORIOLE.  245 

THE     ORCHARD    ORIOLE. 

Very  similar  in  form  and  marking,  but  of  a  different 
color  and  smaller,  is  the  Orchard  Oriole  (Icterus  spurius). 
Some  seven  inches  long,  and  having  nearly  the  same  parts 
black  as  the  Baltimore,  except  that  the  tail  is  entirely  black, 
the  male  has  those  parts  corresponding  to  the  orange  in  the 
latter — chestnut,  or  chestnut-red.  The  female  is  olivaceous 
above,  with  dusky  wings,  and  greenish-yellow  beneath. 
The  young  male  is  like  her  the  first  year,  the  second  year  he 
acquires  a  black  throat,  the  third  year  is  variously  spotted, 
and  afterwards  acquires  the  dark  colors  of  maturity.  Resid- 
ing in  Orleans  County,  N.  Y.,  I  am  a  little  too  far  north  for 
this  bird,  but  in  Northern  Ohio,  where  I  formerly  studied 
him,  he  is  very  common,  being  found  in  every  orchard. 
Arriving  there  about  the  middle  of  May,  his  song  is  a  loud 
and  delightful  warble,  bearing  a  striking  resemblance  to 
that  of  the  Robin  or  Rose-breasted  Grosbeak.  The  female 
is  so  shy  as  seldom  to  be  seen.  The  nest,  hung  by  the 
upper  edge  to  a  limb  in  the  orchard,  is  nearly  hemispherical, 
built  of  tough  grasses  thoroughly  interwoven.  Wilson  says: 
"  I  had  the  curiosity  to  detach  one  of  the  fibers,  or  stalks  of 
dried  grass,  from  the  nest,  and  found  it  to  measure  thirteen 
inches  in  length,  and  in  that  distance  was  thirty-four  times 
hooked  through  and  returned,  winding  round  and  round 
the  nest."  He  says,  also:  "An  old  lady  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, to  whom  I  was  one  day  showing  this  curious  fabrica- 
tion, after  admiring  its  texture  for  some  time  asked  me,  in  a 
tone  between  joke  and  earnest,  whether  I  did  not  think  it 
possible  to  teach  these  birds  to  darn  stockings."  This  nest, 
being  built  of  grasses  so  recently  dried  as  still  to  retain 
their  green  color,  about  like  that  of  new-mown  hay,  has  a 
peculiarly  fresh  and  clean  appearance. 

The    Orioles     proper   are    altogether   birds    of    the    Old 


246  THE    WARBLING    VIREO, 

World,  and  are  allied  to  the  Thrushes.  "  More  than  twenty 
species  are  described  in  Africa,  Asia,  and  the  Indian  archi- 
pelago." One  species,  the  Golden  Oriole,  migrates  into 
Southern  Europe,  and  occasionally  reaches  Great  Britain 
and  Sweden.  They  all  build  very  ingenious  nests.  Our 
Orioles,  of  a  wholly  different  type,  and  peculiar  to  the 
New  World,  especially  to  Central  and  South  America,  are 
closely  related  to  the  numerous  Blackbirds  of  our  country 
all  of  which  are  ranked  among  the  Starlings. 

THE    WARBLING    VIREO. 

From  a  group  of  tall  maples  in  a  neighboring  yard,  there 
comes  one  of  the  most  delightful  warbles  ever  heard  in  this 
locality  —  that  of  the  Warbling  Vireo  (Vireo  gilvus).  In  a 
series  of  liquid  notes,  very  fluent  and  greatly  prolonged 
for  the  size  of  the  bird,  in  a  smoothly  undulating  melody, 
delivered  while  the  bird  flits  and  gleans  among  the  foliage, 
and  in  tones  so  sweet  that  it  would  seem  as  if  the  air 
melted  in  them,  the  very  soul  of  tenderness  and  affection  is 
breathed  out  upon  the  ear.  In  one  of  our  rural  burying- 
grounds,  not  long  since,  while  a  casket  with  the  remains  of 
a  little  child  was  being  lowered  into  the  grave,  there  mingled 
with  the  sobs  of  heart-broken  mourners  the  inimitably  ten- 
der warble  of  this  bird  from  a  tree-top  just  above.  Never 
did  the  melody  of  bird  or  man  seem  more  appropriate.  It 
was  at  once  the  voice  of  sympathy  and  hope  in  the  very 
presence  of  death. 

This  inimitable  melody,  like  that  of  some  celestial  flute 
or  flageolet,  never  out  of  time,  and  never  failing  to  charm, 
may  be  heard  in  our  middle  districts  from  the  first  days  of 
May  till  the  last  of  September. 

Though  common  to  orchards  and  shaded  front-yards, 
even  in  villages  and  cities,  the  Warbling  Vireo  is  much 


THE    WARBLING    VIREO.  247 

oftener  heard  than  seen.  Nearly  the  size  of  a  canary,  5.50 
long  and  9.00  in  extent,  olivaceous-green  above  and  yel- 
lowish-white beneath,  it  so  nearly  resembles  the  leaves 
as  it  glides  softly  and  gracefully  through  the  tree-tops 
that  one  must  look  sharply  to  detect  it.  But  it  is  so 
utterly  absent-minded  as  it  flits  and  peers  among  the 
branches,  meanwhile  abandoning  itself  to  its  song,  that  one 
may  come  almost  as  near  to  it  as  one  pleases.  Though, 
like  the  rest  of  the  Vireos,  it  takes  its  food  and  moves  about 
like  a  Warbler,  the  bill,  hooked  and  notched,  broad  at  base 
and  well  bristled,  reminded  the  older  ornithologists  of  the 
Flycatchers,  while  its  general  structure  now  brings  this 
family  near  the  Shrikes  —  a  group  of  birds  of  altogether 
different  habits  of  voice,  food  and  nidification.  The  family 
Vireonidce.  is  entirely  of  the  New  World,  and  the  genus  Vireo, 
to  which  this  warbling  species  belongs,  is  almost  exclusively 
of  North  America,  while  the  species  itself  pertains  to  the 
eastern  parts.  As  in  the  case  of  the  Vireos  in  general,  male 
and  female  are  alike.  Like  all  the  rest  of  its  genus,  it  hangs 
by  its  edge  a  delicate  pensile  nest  on  the  elastic  twigs  of 
some  bush  or  tree;  in  the  case  of  gilvus,  almost  always 
high  up  in  the  tree;  the  eggs,  some  .80X-55,  being  of  a 
most  delicate  or  flesh-tinted  white,  barely  specked  with  dark- 
brown  or  black,  are  among  the  most  beautiful  of  birds'  eggs. 

The  nests  and  eggs  of  the  Vireos  can  never  be  mistaken, 
so  wholly  different  are  they  from  the  nests  and  eggs  of  all 
other  birds.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  tender  sense  of  the 
beautiful  which  stole  over  me  in  the  days  of  childhood,  as 
I  first  beheld  a  nest  of  this  bird.  A  very  fairy-like  basket 
of  jewels  it  seemed. 

A  warbling  Vireo's  nest,  now  before  me,  is  hung  on  very 
small  twigs  at  their  junction  with  a  larger  upright  twig, 
and  is  slightly  fastened  around  the  latter.  It  is  woven  of 


248  THE    WARBLING    VIREO. 

woody  fibers,  some  dried  grass  and  shreds  of  bark,  inter- 
mixed with  bits  of  wasp-nest,  vegetable  down,  and  the 
white,  fine-spun  substance  of  certain  cocoons.  It  is  lined 
with  fine  shreds  of  the  grape-vine.  Another  nest,  suspended 
in  the  ordinary  way,  is  similarly  made  up,  but  very  shallow, 
not  more  than  1^  inch  in  depth  outside. 

Though  the  summer  habitat  of  Vireo gilvus  is  given  as  far 
west  as  the  High  Central  Plains,  I  do  not  think  it  extends 
very  far  north  of  Lake  Ontario.  I  did  not  meet  with  it  on 
Georgian  Bay  nor  in  Nova  Scotia.  Mr.  Chamberlain  does 
not  report  it  from  New  Brunswick,  and  Mr.  Everett  Smith 
regards  it  as  rare  in  Eastern  Maine.  It  is  probably  a  bird 
of  the  Alleghanian  Fauna. 

The  Brotherly-love,  or  Philadelphia  Vireo,  probably  a 
closely-allied  species  to  the  Warbling,  is  also  found  occa- 
sionally in  this  locality.  It  is  quite  a  little  shorter  than  the 
latter,  perhaps  half  an  inch,  and  the  colors  are  brighter — 
the  olivaceous  having  more  of  green,  and  the  white  having 
more  of  yellow — the  breast,  for  instance,  being  in  some 
cases  quite  yellow.  When  first  studying  birds,  the  eye 
being  not  yet  trained  to  the  exact  observance  of  form  and 
color,  I  noticed  the  difference  at  once  on  procuring  the 
Philadelphia.  Like  other  Vireos,  its  nest  and  eggs  are 
probably  in  close  conformity  to  the  general  type.  It  is  not 
uncommon  in  New  England,  nor  in  New  Brunswick,  while 
it  is  said  to  be  abundant  every  spring,  and  quite  common 
on  the  Red  River  of  the  north. 

Mr.  Wm.  Brewster  found  this  species  common  about 
Umbagog  Lake  in  the  breeding  season.  He  says:  "  Con- 
trary to  what  might  be  expected  from  the  apparently  close 
relationship  of  the  two  birds,  the  song  of  this  species  does 
not  in  the  least  resemble  that  of  Vireo  gilvus.  It  is,  on  the 
other  hand,  so  nearly  identical  with  that  of  V.  olivaceus  that 


THE    WARBLING    VIREO.  249 

the  most  critical  ear  will,  in  many  cases,  find  great  difficulty 
in  distinguishing  between  the  two.  The  notes  of  philadelphicus 
are  generally  pitched  a  little  higher  in  the  scale,  while  many 
of  the  utterances  are  feebler,  and  the  whole  strain  is  a  trifle 
more  disconnected.  But  these  differences  are  of  a  very 
subtle  character,  and,  like  most  comparative  ones,  they  are 
not  to  be  depended  upon  unless  the  two  species  can  be  heard 
together.  The  Philadelphia  Vireo  has,  however,  one  note 
which  seems  to  be  peculiarly  its  own,  a  very  abrupt,  double- 
syllabled  utterance,  with  a  rising  inflection,  which  comes  in 
with  the  general  song  at  irregular  but  not  infrequent  inter- 
vals." 

Similarity  of  appearance  to  the  Vireos  generally,  and 
close  resemblance  in  vocal  habit  to  the  Red-eyed  Vireo, 
have  no  doubt  caused  the  species  under  review  hitherto  to 
elude  notice.  Now  that  the  points  of  discrimination  have 
been  so  well  brought  out  by  Mr.  Brewster,  it  may,  perhaps, 
be  found  generally  and  commonly  distributed  in  Eastern 
North  America. 

In  the  deep  forests,  or  .possibly  in  some  thickly-shaded 
yard,  already  in  the  latter  part  of  April,  I  may  meet  the 
Yellow-throated  Vireo  (Vireo  flavifrons}.  Well  nigh  six 
inches  long,  yellowish-green  above,  wings  and  tail  deep 
dusky,  the  feathers  edged  with  white  or  yellowish,  wing- 
bars  white;  throat,  breast  and  eye-lids  bright  yellow,  the 
remaining  under  parts  white,  it  is  the  brightest  of  its  genus. 
It  keeps  well  up  in  the  tops  of  the  trees,  diligently  glean- 
ing as  it  sings,  vireo,  vire-ee,  wee-ree,  etc.,  in  tones  rather 
shrill  for  a  Vireo,  and  not  nearly  so  finely  modulated  and 
fluent  as  those  of  its  relative,  the  Red-eye,  but  greatly 
resembling  them.  Breeding  "from  Maryland  and  Virginia 
northward"  (Coues),  its  nest,  some  5  to  15  feet  from  the 
ground,  is  not  uncommon  in  this  locality. 


250  THE  RED-EYED    VIREO. 

One  now  before  me  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Red-eye.  The 
walls,  however,  are  thicker,  the  nest  deeper,  and  hence  more 
bulky;  also  more  fully  ornamented  on  the  entire  outside 
with  a  white  material — capsules  of  spiders'  nests  or  cover- 
ings of  some  kind  of  chrysalid  —  and  around  the  bottom  with 
bits  of  rotten  wood,  very  porous  and  almost  wHite,  prob- 
ably bass-wood;  the  whole  having  a  whitish  or  yellowish- 
gray  and  highly  artistic  appearance.  Another,  found  June 
20th,  is  not  any  larger  than  the  Red-eye's,  but  the  outside 
is  ornamented  with  skeleton  leaves,  fine  vegetable  fibers, 
down,  capsules  of  spiders'  nests,  etc.  The  eggs,  some  .75 
or  .80X-55  or  .60,  therefore  rather  longish  and  pointed,  are 
pure  white,  with  a  few  spots  or  mere  specks  of  dark  brown 
or  black  on  the  large  end. 

THE     RED-EYED     VIREO. 

Certainly  in  a  few  days  I  shall  meet  in  great  abundance 
throughout  the  forest  the  Red-eyed  Vireo  (Vireo  olivaceus). 
Fully  six  inches  long,  it  appears  larger  than  most  of  its 
genus,  and  while  it  has  the  general  colors  of  the  Vireos  or 
Greenlets,  olive-green  above  and  white  or  whitish  beneath, 
its  ashy  crown  flanked  with  a  narrow  line  of  black,  and  its 
white  line  over  the  eye,  differentiate  it  alike  from  the 
Warbling  and  from  the  Philadelphia  Vireo.  Keeping,  for 
the  most  part,  in  the  upper  regions  of  the  thick  foliage,  it 
almost  constantly  enlivens  the  woods  with  its  soft  flowing 
warble;  its  tones,  though  "cheerful  and  happy  as  the  merry 
whistle  of  a  school-boy,"  being  yet  so  much  softer  and 
sweeter  than  the  Yellow-throats,  as  to  be  readily  distin- 
guishable. Its  melody,  rendered  in  a  spontaneous,  absent- 
minded  manner,  seems  simply  a  cheerful  accompani- 
ment to  business,  something  thrown  in  by  the  way.  I 
know  of  no  bird  in  our  forest  which  sings  so  constantly 


THE  RED-EYED    VIREO.  251 

from  early  morning  through  the  burning  heat  of  noon, 
and  on  into  the  sombre  shadows  of  the  coming  night, 
aye  throughout  the  season  from  May  to  September, 
as  this  unpretending  little  summer  resident.  To  quote 
Mr.  Burroughs,  "Rain  or  shine,  before  noon  or  after, 
in  the  deep  forest  or  in  the  village  grove — when  it  is  too 
hot  for  the  Thrushes  or  too  cold  and  windy  for  the  War- 
blers— it  is  never  out  of  time  or  place  for  this  little  minstrel 
to  indulge  his  cheerful  strain."  This  song  is  in  mellow, 
whistling  tones,  varied  with  rising  and  falling  inflections, 
and  may  be  represented  by  the  syllables,  virio-virio-viriee- 
viria-viree,  etc.,  suggesting  the  origin  of  the  bird's  name. 
Some  one  has  made  it  especially  articulate  in  the  following 
lines: 

"  Pretty  green  worm,  where  are  you  ? 

Dusky-winged  moth,  how  fare  you, 

When  wind  and  rain  are  in  the  trees  ? 
Cheeryo,  cheerebly,  chee, 

Shadow  and  sunshine  are  one  to  me. 

"  Mosquito  and"  gnat,  beware  you, 
Saucy  chipmunk,  how  dare  you 
Climb  to  my  nest  in  the  maple-tree  ? 

And  dig  up  the  corn 

At  noon  and  at  morn  ? 

Cheereyo,  cheerebly,  chee." 

Its  small  cup-shaped,  pensile  nest,  hung  to  the  twigs  of  a 
bush  or  tree,  late  in  May  or  early  in  June,  anywhere  from 
several  to  twenty  feet  from  the  ground,  located  in  any  part 
of  the  forest,  but  seldom  elsewhere,  is,  perhaps,  not  equal 
as  a  work  of  art  to  that  of  some  other  Vireos.  It  is  com- 
posed, outside,  of  shreds  of  thin  fibrous  bark,  of  a  light 
color,  and  ornamented  with  vegetable  down,  the  silk  of 
cocoons,  bits  of  wasps'  nests,  etc. ;  inside,  of  a  few  fine  rootlets,, 


252  THE  RED-EYED    VIREO. 

but  mostly  of  something  like  fine  shreds  of  bark  from  the 
wild  grape-vine.  The  eggs,  three  or  four,  measuring  some 
.82X-62,  of  a  pure  glossy- white,  are  generally  barely 
specked  on  the  larger  end  with  dark  brown,  sometimes  also 
sparingly  blotched  with  dull  red.  All  the  Vireo's  eggs  are 
more  or  less  pointed. 

Never  shall  I  forget  a  beautiful  evening  on  the  18th  of 
May,  when  I  was  most  highly  entertained  by  a  female  Red- 
eye building  her  nest.  It  was  after  one  of  those  genial 
spring  days,  when  all  the  latent  forces  of  nature  are  wooed 
into  activity.  Strolling  through  the  woods  near  sunset,  I 
sat  upon  a  large  stump,  where  a  lately  fallen  tree  had  left 
quite  an  opening,  letting  in  the  sunlight  with  a  most  grateful 
effect.  Here  I  listened  to  a  host  of  birds  all  around  me. 
About  fifteen  feet  up  in  a  smallish  beech,  I  noticed  a  silent 
Red-eye,  looking  very  anxious  and  busy.  Presently  I  saw 
a  few  feet  from  her  the  merest  outline  of  a  nest — a  little 
gossamer  bag  hung  to  the  twigs.  In  a  moment  she  lit  upon 
it  and  began  to  work.  I  could  see  the  motion  of  the 
weaver,  but  not  a  thread  of  the  material,  it  was  so  very 
fine.  Reaching  around  the  fabric,  even  underneath  it,  she 
would  seem  to  catch  some  loose  thread,  and  drawing  it  over 
the  side  and  edge,  fasten  it  inside.  Working  thus  a  few 
moments,  all  around  inside  and  outside  of  the  nest,  she 
would  fly  away,  soon  returning  to  repeat  the  same  opera- 
tion. Though  so  near,  I  could  scarcely  discern  a  particle  of 
the  material  she  brought,  and  yet  the  nest  grew  rapidly. 
Wonderful  little  workman!  Where  did  she  learn  her  art? 

Wintering  partly  in  Florida,  but  mostly  in  tropical  America, 
and  extending  their  summer  range  throughout  the  Eastern 
United  States,  the  British  Provinces,  and  the  Northwest, 
the  Red-eyed  Vireos  are  among  the  most  abundant  and 
characteristic  birds  of  Eastern  North  America. 


THE   SOLITARY    VIREO.  253 

THE    SOLITARY    VIREO. 

I  also  find  the  Solitary  Vireo  ( Vireo  solitarius)  here  as  a 
rare  migrant  in  May.  Some  5.00  inches  long;  head  ashy; 
back,  greenish-olive;  ring  around  the  eye,  stripe  thence  to 
the  nostrils;  wing-bars,  outer  edges  of  the  dusky  wing  and 
tail-feathers  and  under  parts,  white;  sides  tinged  with  yel- 
low— this  Vireo  is  readily  distinguished  from  the  rest,  espe- 
cially by  its  larger  head  of  plumbeous-blue  and  the  white 
markings  about  the  eye.  As  this  bird  has  been  found 
breeding  near  Boston,  it  would  seem  that  it  might  breed 
here;  but  I  know  of  no  one  who  has  found  its  nest.  Its 
nidification  seems  to  be  principally  in  Northern  New  Eng- 
land and  northward.  Nuttall,  that  masterly  interpreter  of 
bird-music,  says:  "Its  song  seems  to  be  intermediate  be- 
tween that  of  the  Red-eyed  and  the  Yellow-breasted  species, 
having  the  preai,  preai,  etc.,  of  the  latter,  and  the  fine 
variety  of  the  former  in  its  tones."  Minot  says  "the  music 
of  the  Solitary  Vireo  is  delicious."  Burroughs  speaks  of  a 
note  of  the  female  as  suggesting  "  the  bleating  of  a  tiny 
lambkin."  Mr.  J.  E.  Wagner,  an  amateur  ornithologist  of 
good  abilities  for  observation,  in  Nova  Scotia,  says  that  the 
song  of  the  male  is  sometimes  very  much  like  certain  of  the 
finer  strains  of  the  Catbird,  and  that  he  is  a  most  constant 
and  spirited  singer. 

The  nest,  in  material,  structure  and  position,  is  very 
similar  to  that  of  other  Vireos.  The  eggs  average  ".77  X 
.58  "  of  an  inch,  and  are  pure  white,  with  a  very  few  minute 
and  generally  reddish-brown  spots,  principally  at  the  larger 
end."  A  most  elegant  nest,  just  sent  me  by  Mr.  Wagner 
from  Nova  Scotia,  the  head  and  wing  of  the  female  accom- 
panying it,  is  very  similar  to  that  of  the  Red-eye.  It  was 
hung  about  eight  feet  from  the  ground,  in  the  forked  limb 
of  a  fir  bush,  is  made  of  usnea,  and  fine  shreds  of  the  thinnest 


254:  THE    WHITE-EYED    VIREO. 

bark  of  the  white  birch,  being  lined  with  fine  dried  grasses. 
The  four  eggs,  fresh  the  7th  of  June,  about  .78  x  -56  —  as 
long  and  pointed  as  any  Vireo's  egg — are  pure  white, 
sparsely  specked  with  reddish-brown,  mostly  at  the  large 
end  —  the  specks  looking  as  if  they  had  been  put  on  when 
the  shell  was  soft,  and  so  had  run  a  little. 

Keeping  to  the  forest,  and  exceedingly  solitary  and  retiring 
in  its  habits,  this  bird  ranges  nearly  throughout  North 
America,  and  winters  in  the  more  tropical  regions.  Mr. 
Wagner  reports  the  species  as  breeding  very  common  in 
New  Canada,  Lunenburg  County,  Nova  Scotia,  the  female 
adhering  most  persistently  to  her  nest,  and  defending  it 
very  bravely  on  leaving  it. 

THE    WHITE-EYED    VIREO. 

The  White-eyed  Vireo  (Vireo  noveboracensis),  "noted  for 
its  sprightly  manners  and  emphatic  voice,"  is  but  seldom 
found  here.  Mr.  Ringueberg,  of  Lockport,  has  found  it 
breeding  near  that  city.  The  nest,  now  before  me,  is  almost 
precisely  like  that  of  the  Red-eye;  built  externally  with 
fibers  of  bark,  interlaced  with  webby  material,  lined  with 
something  brown,  which  appears  to  me  to  be  the  finest  shreds 
of  the  bark  of  the  wild  grape-vine.  The  nest  has  one  pecul- 
iar mark,  however.  It  is  well  ornamented  with  bits  of 
newspaper,  in  addition  to  the  dried  leaves,  bits  of  wasps' 
nests,  and  "paper-like  capsules  of  the  spiders'  nests,"  so 
common  to  the  nests  of  the  Vireo;  and  thus  the  bird  main- 
tains its  right  to  the  name  of  Politician,  given  it  by  Wilson. 
This  nest  was  in  a  bush  in  a  small  thicket.  The  single  egg 
it  contained  was  very  similar  to  the  egg  of  the  Red-eye,  but 
smaller,  and  the  fine  specks  on  the  pure  white  ground,  black 
or  nearly  so. 

The  bird  is  5  inches  long;  olive-green  above,  the  wings 


THE    WHITE-EYED    VIREO.  255 

and  tail  being  dusky,  with  feathers  edged  with  greenish; 
throat  light-ash;  sides  of  the  head,  breast,  and  flanks  bright 
yellow;  thus  having  more  yellow  than  any  other  Vireo  except 
the  Yellow-throat;  wing-bars  yellowish- white;  vent  white;  iris 
white.  On  the  whole,  this  is  rather  a  southern  bird,  and 
barely  reaches  Western  New  York  and  Southern  New 
England.  Partial  to  thickets,  especially  about  swamps,  it  is 
local  in  its  distribution,  and  may  be  associated  with  the 
smilax  or  green-briar.  The  vocal  habits  of  this  bird  are 
wholly  different  from  those  of  the  rest  of  the  Vireos.  Mr. 
Burroughs  says:  "The  song  of  this  bird  is  not  particularly 
sweet  and  soft;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  little  hard  and  shrill, 
like  that  of  the  Indigo-bird  or  Oriole;  but  for  brightness, 
volubility,  execution,  and  power  of  imitation,  he  is  unsur- 
passed by  any  of  our  northern  birds.  His  ordinary  note  is 
forcible  and  emphatic,  but,  as  stated,  not  especially  musical; 
chick-a-re  r-chick,  he  seems  to  say,  hiding  himself  in  the  low, 
dense  undergrowth,  and  eluding  your  most  vigilant  search, 
as  if  playing  some  part  in  a  game.  But  in  July  or  August, 
if  you  are  on  good  terms  with  the  sylvan  deities,  you  may 
listen  to  a  far  more  rare  and  artistic  performance.  Your 
first  impression  will  be  that  that  cluster  of  azaleas,  or  that 
clump  of  swamp-huckleberry,  conceals  three  or  four  differ- 
ent songsters,  each  vying  with  the  others  to  lead  the  chorus. 
Such  a  medley  of  notes,  snatched  from  half  the  songsters  of 
the  field  and  forest,  and  uttered  with  the  utmost  clearness 
and  rapidity,  I  am  sure  you  cannot  hear  short  of  the 
haunts  of  the  genuine  Mockingbird.  If  not  fully  and  accu- 
rately repeated,  there  are  at  least  suggested  the  notes  of  the 
Robin,  Wren,  Catbird,  High-hole,  Goldfinch  and  Song- 
sparrow.  The  pip, pip  of  the  last  is  produced  so  accurately 
that  I  verily  believe  it  would  deceive  the  bird  herself;  and 
the  whole  uttered  in  such  rapid  succession  that  it  seems  as 


256  THE    WHITE-EYED    VIREO. 

if  the  movement  that  gives  the  concluding  notes  of  one 
strain  must  form  the  first  note  of  the  next.  The  effect  is 
very  rich,  and,  to  my  ear,  entirely  unique.  The  performer 
is  very  careful  not  to  reveal  himself  in  the  meantime;  yet 
there  is  a  conscious  air  about  the  strain  that  impresses  me 
with  the  idea  that  my  presence  is  understood  and  my 
attention  courted.  A  tone  of  pride  and  glee,  and,  occasion- 
ally, of  bantering  jocoseness,  is  discernible.  I  believe  it  is 
only  rarely,  and  when  he  is  sure  of  his  audience,  that  he  dis- 
plays his  parts  in  this  manner." 

"  Next  after  the  Warblers,  the  Greenlets  (Vireos)  are  the 
most  delightful  of  our  forest  birds,  though  their  charms 
address  the  ear,  and  not  the  eye.  Clad  in  simple  tints  that 
harmonize  with  the  verdure,  these  gentle  songsters  warble 
their  lays  unseen,  while  the  foliage  itself  seems  stirred  to 
music.  In  the  quaint  and  curious  ditty  of  the  White-eye  — 
in  the  earnest  voluble  strains  of  the  Red-eye  —  in  the  tender 
secret  that  the  Warbling  Vireo  confides  in  whispers  to 
the  passing  breeze — he  is  insensible  who  does  not 
hear  the  echo  of  thoughts  he  never  clothes  in  words." 
(Coues). 

The  strictness  with  which  this  group  of  birds  is  defined 
as  a  family,  alike  in  size,  structure,  color,  and  habits,  is  cer- 
tainly matter  for  reflection.  For  instance,  how  comes  each 
Vireo  to  build  that  neat,  cup-shaped,  pensile  nest,  so  peculiar 
to  the  family,  and  so  unlike  that  of  any  other  bird?  Why  is 
a  Vireo's  egg  so  unique?  or,  why  should  it  be  fashioned 
almost  as  from  the  same  mould,  and  colored  as  if  by  the 
same  brush?  Comes  all  this  by  chance?  Is  it  simply  a 
self-evolved  fact?  Is  it  not  rather  a  bit  of  that  great 
and  exact  system  of  nature,  which  implies  the  working 
out  of  a  perfect  plan,  after  the  design  of  an  Infinite  Intelli- 
gence? 


THE  BROWN   THRUSH.  257 

THE    BROWN   THRUSH. 

As  I  stroll  along  the  edge  of  the  woods  during  the  fore- 
noon, I  am  greeted  by  a  clear,  voluble  song,  quite  varied, 
and  very  musical,  having  an  overflowing  spontaneity,  al- 
together peculiar.  The  singer  is  the  Brown  Thrush  (Harp- 
orhynchus  rufus].  Bearing  a  decided  resemblance  in  song  to 
its  near  relative,  the  Catbird,  it  has  nothing  whatever  of  the 
marvelous  mimicry  of  its  other  near  relative,  the  Mocking- 
bird, all  of  them  being  related  to  the  Thrushes  proper. 
The  spirited  and  very  rapid  warble  of  this  so-called  Thrush 
is  exceedingly  animating,  and  is  susceptible  of  a  great 
variety  of  interpretations.  To  Thoreau,  while  planting  his 
beans,  it  seemed  to  say:  "Drop  it,  drop  it — cover  it  up, 
cover  it  up  —  pull  it  up,  pull  it  up,  pull  it  up;"  Audubon 
compared  it  to  "the  careful  lullaby  of  some  blessed  mother 
chanting  her  babe  to  repose;"  while  Wilson  was  led  to  say, 
"we  listen  to  its  notes  with  a  kind  of  devotional  ecstasy, 
as  a  morning  hymn  to  the  great  and  most  adorable  Creator 
of  all."  It  has  a  novel  and. most  pleasing  sweetness  to  me, 
as  this  bird  is  but  a  rare  resident  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try. A  nest  before  me,  found  near  Lockport,  corresponds 
well  with  the  description  given  by  Wilson  and  other  au- 
thors—  quite  flat,  made  outside  of  sticks  and  coarse  stalks  of 
herbs,  then  dry  leaves,  and  inside,  of  rootlets,  contains  four 
or  five  bluish-tinted  eggs,  1.05  X  .78,  well  specked  all  over 
with  reddish-brown  and  pale  lilac.  It  is  placed  in  a  bush, 
sometimes  in  d  tree  or  hedge,  occasionally  on  the  ground, 
never  far  from  it,  in  a  thicket  or  bushy  pasture  along  or  near 
the  woods,  such  being  the  chosen  places  of  its  residence. 
In  some  parts  of  the  west,  where  it  keeps  to  the  narrow 
strips  of  wood  which  skirt  the  streams  of  the  prairies,  and 
which  are  frequently  quite  deeply  overflowed  in  summer, 
17 


258  THE  BROWN   THRUSH. 

the  nests  are  placed  quite  a  distance  from  the  ground,  and 
always  above  the  highest  mark  of  the  flood. 

When  the  nest  of  this  species  is  approached,  especially  if 
the  young  are  hatched,  the  parents  become  greatly  excited, 
uttering  a  strong,  metallic  chip,  which  is  alike  noticeable 
and  characteristic. 

Some  11.25  long  and  13.30  in  extent,  the  entire  upper 
parts  reddish-brown,  the  lower  parts,  except  the  throat, 
creamy-white,  spotted  and  streaked  with  brown  or  black, 
thus  showing  a  relation  to  the  Thrushes  —  it  is  especially 
noticeable  by  means  of  its  long  tail,  which  it  drops  and 
partly  spreads  as,  with  head  and  somewhat  long  bill  thrown 
forward,  it  perches  and  sings  in  full  view. 

Audubon's  fine  picture  of  a  scene  he  witnessed — a  group  of 
Brown  Thrushes  driving  the  black  snake  from  a  nest  as  he 
twines  around  its  support,  jostling  out  the  eggs  and  squeezing 
the  life  out  of  the  mother-bird — represents  the  neighborly 
spirit  and  noble  courage  of  this  species.  It  is  easily  domesti- 
cated and  capable  of  remarkable  friendship  for  man.  One 
kept  by  Dr.  Bachman  used  to  follow  him  about  the  yard  and 
garden.  "The  instant  it  saw  me  take  a  spade  or  a  hoe,"  he 
says,"  it  would  follow  at  my  heels,  and  as  I  turned  up  the  earth 
would  pick  up  every  insect  or  worm  thus  exposed  to  view.  I 
kept  it  for  three  years,  and  its  affection  for  me  cost  it  its  life. 
It  usually  slept  on  the  back  of  my  chair,  in  my  study,  and  one 
night  the  door  being  accidentally  left  open,  it  was  killed  by 
a  cat.  I  once  knew  a  few  of  these  birds  to  remain  the 
whole  of  a  mild  winter  in  the  State  of  New  York  in  a  wild 
state." 

Mr.  Bartram,  the  distinguished  naturalist  of  Philadel- 
phia, and  the  friend  of  Wilson,  furnished  the  latter  with 
the  following  note,  concerning  the  sagacity  of  a  Brown 
Thrush  which  he  had  domesticated.  "  Being  very  fond  of 


THE  SCARLET   TAN  ACER.  259 

wasps,  after  catching  them,  and  knocking  them  about  to 
break  their  wings,  he  would  lay  them  down,  then  examine 
if  they  had  a  sting,  and,  with  his  bill,  squeeze  the  abdomen 
to  clear  it  of  the  reservoir  of  poison  before  he  would  swal- 
low his  prey.  When  in  his  cage,  being  very  fond  of  dry 
crusts  of  bread,  if,  upon  trial,  the  corners  of  the  crumbs 
were  too  hard  and  sharp  for  his  throat,  he  would  throw 
them  up,  carry  and  put  them  in  his  water-dish  to  soften, 
and  then  take  them  out  and  swallow  them." 

The  Brown  Thrush  is  a  bird  of  the  Eastern  United 
States,  wintering  south,  extending  northward  in  summer 
into  the  British  Provinces,  being  very  common  about  Great 
Manitoulin  Island,  and  breeding  throughout  its  range. 

THE    SCARLET    TANAGER. 

I  continue  my  early  morning  ramble  along  the  edge  of  a 
beautiful  forest.  The  whole  atmosphere  seems  to  vibrate 
to  the  song  of  birds.  Some  of  them  I  hear  for  the  first 
time  in  the  season.  The  song  in  yonder  elm,  for  instance, 
bearing  quite  a  resemblance  to  that  of  the  Robin,  only 
softer  and  less  copious  and  fluent,  is  fresh  and  new  this 
morning;  it  is  the  song  of  the  Scarlet  Tanager  (Pyranga 
rubrd),  and  compares  well  with  any  song  in  the  woods,  short 
of  that  of  the  Thrushes.  And  yet  neither  Wilson  nor 
Audubon  mentions  anything  more  of  song  for  this  bird 
than  the  chip,  chur-r-r-r,  which  is  its  common  note.  There, 
I  get  a  full  view  of  him  now,  amidst  the  dark  green  of  that 
hemlock.  Always  slow  and  dignified  in  his  motions,  what 
a  brilliant  beauty  he  is!  Nearly  the  size  of  a  Baltimore 
or  a  Bobolink,  6.75  long  and  11.73  in  extent,  he  is 
a  pure,  bright  scarlet,  with  jet-black  wings  and  tail. 
Moving  with  a  steady  flight,  he  has  lit  on  the  side 
of  a  moss-covered  log,  by  a  small  pool,  smooth  as  a 


260  THE   SCARLET   TAN  ACER. 

mirror.  The  scene  is  double,  for  the  bird  in  the  water  is  as 
brilliant  as  that  among  the  moss;  and  the  water  mirrors 
not  only  the  bird  and  the  moss-covered  log,,  but  the  sky. 
I  sympathize  with  this  little  creature's  peaceful  pleasures  as 
he  dips  his  bill  and  drinks,  then  straightens  himself  up, 
fills  his  throat  and  warbles,  and  drinks  and  warbles  again. 
Did  Eden  itself  afford  anything  prettier  than  this  of  its 
kind?  Even  the  Creator  must  experience  delight  in  such 
quiet  joys  of  His  creatures. 

For  the  first  week  after  his  arrival  the  Tanager  seems 
anxiously  waiting  for  his  rather  plain  colored  mate  —  of 
dull  green  above,  yellowish  beneath,  and  dusky  wings  and 
tail.  I  once  found  her,  however,  delicately  tinged  with  red, 
a  genuine  beauty.  During  this  time  of  waiting,  he  will 
keep  up  his  chip,  chur-r-r,  sometimes  in  a  most  animated 
manner.  Only  occasionally  will  he  indulge  in  his  fine  war- 
ble. Meanwhile  he  keeps  almost  entirely  to  the  woods. 
Rarely  he  may  be  seen  on  the  fence,  or  he  may  stray  to  the 
orchard,  or,  if  you  are  plowing  near  the  woods,  a  half-dozen 
of  these  scarlet  beauties  may  visit  your  furrow,  and  glean 
insects,  according  to  their  common  habit  of  diet. 

When  the  female  arrives,  shy  and  retiring,  according  to 
the  manner  of  female  birds  at  such  times,  she  at  once 
receives  the  most  winning  attentions.  Now  the  song  is 
more  frequent,  the  utterance  of  the  common  note  may  be 
quite  excited,  and  there  is  a  display  of  graceful  motions 
and  brilliant  colors.  See  him  stand  before  her  with  droop- 
ing wings  and  spreading  tail!  How  finely  he  hovers  in  her 
presence,  looking  like  burning  scarlet  amidst  the  black 
cloud  of  his  vibrating  wings.  Now  she  is  joined  to  her 
consort,  and  for  the  rest  of  the  season  the  two  are  inseparable. 

Soon  they  retire,  for  the  most  part,  pretty  well  into  the 
forest,  generally  choosing  as  the  site  for  their  nest  the 


THE   SCARLET  TAN  ACER.  261 

horizontal  bough  of  some  pretty  good  sized  tree,  anywhere 
from  ten  to  thirty  feet  from  the  ground;  oftener  near  the 
latter  height,  though  I  have  pulled  down  the  limb  and 
looked  into  the  nest.  A  frail  fabric,  indeed,  is  this  nest. 
Begun  with  small  twigs,  stalks  of  weeds,  strips  of  bark, 
with  a  very  little  wool  or  down,  perhaps,  and  lined  with  fine 
rootlets  or  very  fine  dried  spray  of  some  evergreen  (in  this 
locality  generally  the  hemlock),  the  whole  being  somewhat 
shallow,  and  very  raggedly  woven;  one  may  almost  count 
the  eggs  from  beneath.  These,  three  or  four,  laid  here  late 
in  May,  are  .90  X  .65  of  an  inch,  delicate  light-green,  specked 
or  heavily  spotted  with  reddish-brown.  This  nest  is  often 
imposed  upon  by  the  Cow  Blackbird.  I  once  found  one 
containing  four  of  these  eggs,  and  but  two  of  the  Tanager's; 
the  former  being  in  various  stages  of  incubation,  while  the 
latter  were  nearly  fresh. 

Wilson  relates  a  beautiful  incident  concerning  the  parental 
affection  of  the  Tanager.  He  says:  "Passing  through  an 
orchard  one  morning  I  caught  one  of  these  young  birds  that 
had  but  lately  left  the  nest.  I  carried  it  with  me  about  half 
a  mile  to  show  it  to  my  friend,  Mr.  William  Bartram;  and, 
having  procured  a  cage,  hung  it  up  in  one  of  the  large  pine 
trees  in  the  botanic  garden,  within  a  few  feet  of  the  nest  of 
an  Orchard  Oriole,  which  also  contained  young,  hopeful 
that  the  charity  or  tenderness  of  the  Orioles  would  induce 
them  to  supply  the  cravings  of  the  stranger.  But  charity 
with  them,  as  with  too  many  of  the  human  race,  began  and 
ended  at  home.  The  poor  orphan  was  altogether  neglected, 
notwithstanding  its  plaintive  cries;  and,  as  it  refused  to  be 
fed  by  me,  I  was  about  to  return  it  back  to  the  place  where 
I  found  it,  when,  towards  the  afternoon,  a  Scarlet  Tanager, 
no  doubt  its  own  parent,  was  seen  fluttering  round  the  cage, 
endeavoring  to  get  in.  Finding  this  impracticable,  he  flew 


262  THE   SCARLET   TAN  ACER. 

off,  and  soon  returned  with  food  in  his  bill,  and  continued 
to  feed  it  till  after  sunset,  taking  up  his  lodgings  on  the 
higher  branches  of  the  same  tree.  In  the  morning,  almost 
as  soon  as  day  broke,  he  was  again  seen  most  actively 
engaged  in  the  same  affectionate  manner;  and,  notwith- 
standing the  insolence  of  the  Orioles,  continued  his  benev- 
olent offices  the  whole  day,  roosting  at  night  as  before.  On 
the  third  or  fourth  day  he  appeared  extremely  solicitous 
for  the  liberation  of  his  charge,  using  every  expression  of 
distressful  anxiety,  and  every  call  and  invitation  that  nature 
had  put  in  his  power  for  him  to  come  out.  This  was  too 
much  for  the  feelings  of  my  venerable  friend;  he  procured 
a  ladder,  and,  mounting  to  the  spot  where  the  bird  was 
suspended,  opened  the  cage,  took  out  the  prisoner,  and 
restored  him  to  liberty  and  to  his  parent,  who,  with  notes  of 
great  exultation,  accompanied  his  flight  to  the  woods.  The 
happiness  of  my  good  friend  was  scarcely  less  complete, 
and  showed  itself  in  his  benevolent  countenance;  and  I 
could  not  refrain  saying  to  myself:  If  such  sweet  sensations 
can  be  derived  from  a  single  circumstance  of  this  kind,  how 
exquisite  —  how  unspeakably  rapturous — must  the  delight 
of  those  individuals  have  been,  who  have  rescued  their 
fellow-beings  from  death,  chains,  and  imprisonment,  and 
restored  them  to  the  arms  of  friends  and  relations!  Surely 
in  such  God-like  actions  virtue  is  its  own  most  abundant 
reward." 

In  time  of  cherries,  when  the  family  is  absent,  and  every- 
thing is  quiet,  the  Tanager  may  come  even  into  the  door- 
yard  to  vary  his  insect  diet  with  this  fruit,  so  highly  in  favor 
with  the  birds. 

Late  in  summer,  or  early  in  autumn,  the  families  move 
south,  the  old  male  having  changed  his  coat  of  scarlet  for 
one  of  green,  sometimes  quite  a  little  spotted  with  yellow, 


THE   SCARLET   TAN  ACER.  263 

the  young  male  a  beautiful  dark  green,  with  black  wings 
and  tail,  the  young  female  resembling  her  mother.  Winter- 
ing in  the  tropics,  they  range  northward  in  spring,  through 
the  Eastern  United  States,  somewhat  into  the  British 
Provinces,  though  becoming  rare  already  in  Northern  New 
England.  They  breed  throughout  their  range. 

The  observer  of  birds  will  soon  notice  that  in  about  every 
case  of  a  brilliant  male,  the  female  is  exceedingly  plain,  as 
are  also  the  young.  Here  is  one  of  those  suggestive  facts, 
which  lead  the  reflecting  mind  to  ask  the  reason  why. 
This  does  not  look  like  mere  chance;  moreover,  it  serves  a 
purpose.  Excepting  a  brief  period  in  the  breeding  season, 
the  life  of  the  female  is  of  immensely  greater  importance 
to  the  perpetuation  of  the  species  than  that  of  the  male  ; 
and  the  young,  all  unsuspecting  of  danger,  need  special  pro- 
tection. Their  plain  colors  render  them  alike  unattractive 
to  the  eye  of  man,  and  inconspicuous  to  the  bird  or  beast  of 
prey.  Even  the  male  sometimes  has  his  gay  livery  only  in 
the  breeding  season,  thus  being  protected  in  his  southern 
migration  and  early  winter  residence.  Can  any  ingenious 
conjecture  of  "Natural  Selection  "  explain  this  significant 
fact  in  coloration  ?  Is  not  this  an  evidence  of  mind  in  the 
creation  ?  Or  will  the  objector  attribute  a  faculty  of  con- 
scious design  to  matter  itself  ?  Might  he  not  then  as  well 
believe  in  a  personal  Creative  Intelligence  ?  How  else  shall 
we  explain  this  mysterious  something  revealed  in  matter, 
which  seems  to  know  just  what  is  fit  under  all  circum- 
stances ? 

Similar  to  the  above  is  the  Summer  Redbird  (Pyranga 
CRstivd].  The  length  is  7.20,  the  stretch  11.87;  the  male  is 
vermilion,  brightest  on  the  head,  darker  on  the  back,  bright 
beneath;  wings  and  tail  brownish.  The  female  is  olivaceous- 
green  above,  yellowish  below,  wings  darker  or  brownish. 


264 


ROSE-BREASTED   GROSBEAK. 


Young,  similar  to  the  female.  The  bill  is  thicker  in  this  spe- 
cies than  in  the  Tanager.  This  is  a  bird  of  the  Southern 
States,  extending  into  Southern  Illinois  in  the  west.  Its  nest 
and  eggs  are  similar  to  those  of  the  Tanager,  and  its  song 
is  loud  and  melodious. 

ROSE-BREASTED    GROSBEAK. 

That  song  coming  from  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and 
strongly  resembling  the  finest  performance  of  the  Robin — 
only  the  warble  is  much  more  copious,  continuously  pro- 


ROSE-BREASTED    GROSBEAK. 


longed,  and  finely  modulated  with  a  peculiar  richness, 
purity,  and  sweet  pathos  in  the  tones — is  the  music  of  the 
Rose-breasted  Grosbeak  (Goniaphealudoviciand}.  Jet  black 
with  snow-white  markings,  the  tint  of  rose  on  his  breast 
and  under  his  wings,  he  is  the  most  strikingly  beautiful  of 
all  our  summer  visitants  ;  and  in  the  charm  of  song,  as  a 
poet  and  artist  of  the  woodlands,  he  may  rank  even  with 


ROSE-BREASTED   GROSBEAK.  265 

the  Thrushes.  About  8  inches  long  ;  the  head,  neck  and 
upper  parts  are  black  ;  bill,  rump,  under  parts  and  mark- 
ings on  wings  arid  tail,  white  ;  breast,  rose-carmine  ;  lining 
under  the  wings,  delicate  rose.  The  female  has  the  upper 
parts  light  brown,  streaked  with  darker  ;  a  line  over  the  eye, 
a  slight  one  below  it,  and  one  over  the  middle  of  the  crown; 
tips  of  wing  coverts,  and  under  parts,  white  ;  breast  and 
sides  streaked  and  spotted  with  brown  ;  bright  yellow  under 
the  wings,  and  sometimes  a  tinge  of  the  same  on  the  upper 
part  of  the  breast.  I  have  also  seen  a  rose-tint  mixed  with 
the  yellow  under  her  wings,  and  a  most  delicate  tinge  of  the 
purest  rose  on  the  white  rump  of  the  male.  The  large  bill 
of  this  bird,  so  strongly  characterizing  it  and  the  group  to 
which  it  belongs,  is  in  such  harmony  with  the  general  shape 
of  the  head  as  in  nowise  to  mar  its  beauty.  Indeed,  the 
fleshy-tinged  whiteness  of  this  prominent  organ  rather  adds 
to  the  elegance  of  the  species. 

The  stranger  to  our  sylvan  retreats  will  scarcely  meet 
this  charming  bird;  for  its  most  agreeable  summer 
resort  is  in  swampy  woods,  where  the  shadows  are 
deepened  by  tangled  vines  and  a  rank  undergrowth, 
where  flowers  are  large  and  deeply  tinted  from  rich  vege- 
table molds,  and  where  the  fragrant  atmosphere  is  cool  and 
moist.  Often  it  is  found  in  the  thickets  forming  a  sort  of 
border-line  between  field  and  forest,  and  often  in  the  lofty 
arcades  of  the  densest  and  darkest  woodlands.  In  such 
places,  and  rather  local  in  his  distribution,  the  male  makes 
his  appearance  in  Western  New  York  from  the  first  to  the 
tenth  of  May;  and  stretching  himself  on  tiptoe,  delivers,  in 
a  hurried  and  spirited  manner,  his  rare  and  delightful 
melody,  giving  one  the  impression  of  an  exalted  and  unut- 
terable joy  in  a  language  which  means  much,  but  leaves 
much  behind.  Sometimes  several  appear  together,  vying 


266  ROSE-BREASTED   GROSBEAK. 

with  each  other  in  song,  and  gamboling  in  the  most  sportive 
manner.  A  few  days  later,  when  the  leaves  unfolding  in 
their  soft  down  have  fully  expanded,  the  coy  female  appears. 
Her  plain  light  colors  are  strongly  in  contrast  with  the 
ebony,  chalk- white  and  deep  rose  of  her  consort;  and  as 
she  is  almost  voiceless,  a  glimpse  of  her  amidst  the  thick 
foliage  is  rather  rare. 

The  nest  of  this  species,  built  late  in  May,  is  a  frail  and 
loosely-woven  affair,  placed  in  the  top  of  a  bush  or  on  the 
lower  horizontal  limb  of  a  tree.  It  is  composed  outside  of 
small  sticks,  fine  twigs,  or  coarse  strawy  material,  orna- 
mented with  a  few  skeleton-leaves,  and  is  lined  with  very 
fine  twigs  of  some  evergreen  (here,  of  the  hemlock),  or 
with  fine  rootlets,  sometimes  being  finished  with  horse-hair, 
and  the  whole  structure  so  loosely  put  together  that  one 
can  see  through  it  from  beneath.  The  eggs,  four  or  five, 
l.OOx-75,  are  light  green,  specked  and  spotted  with  brown 
and  lilac,  the  markings  often  thickened  or  wreathed  around 
the  large,  sometimes  around  the  small,  end.  In  every  way 
the  nest  and  eggs  bear  a  strong  resemblance  to  those  of 
the  Scarlet  Tanager,  the  nests  of  both  these  brilliant  species 
being  a  sort  of  rude  log-cabin  affair,  compared  with  the 
elegant  nest-homes  of  many  of  our  feathered  tribes. 

I  have  more  frequently  found  the  male  than  the  female 
on  the  nest.  When  disturbed  they  both  keep  very  near, 
moving  about  the  branches  with  much  excitement,  as  they 
emit  a  sharp,  creaking  kimp,  kimp,  quite  unlike  the  note  of 
any  other  bird  of  my  acquaintance.  Though  abundant 
here  in  their  migrations,  and  breeding  very  commonly,  it 
often  requires  a  great  deal  of  careful  watching  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  even  the  male.  So  shy  and  retiring  is  he  at  nearly 
all  times  as  to  be  much  more  frequently  heard  than  seen. 
He  has  been  in  favor  as  a  cage-bird,  and  is  said  by  some 


ROSE-BREASTED  GROSBEAK.  26 T 

to  sing  freely  in  the  night.  Though  he  belongs  to  the 
Sparrows  and  Finches,  and  is  therefore  a  seed  and  grain- 
eating  bird  in  structure,  he  devours  multitudes  of  insects. 
In  early  autumn,  as  the  young  males  go  south,  resembling 
the  female  in  color  and  marking,  only  much  darker  and 
richer,  and  delicately  tinged  with  rose  on  the  throat  and 
breast,  on  the  crown,  and  under  the  wings,  they  are  truly 
beautiful. 

Wintering  in  the  tropics,  migrating  through  Eastern 
North  America,  rather  rare  in  New  England,  but  not  un- 
common in  Nova  Scotia,  the  Rose-breast  breeds  from  the 
Middle  States  to  the  latitudes  of  Labrador.  It  will  thus 
be  seen  to  belong  to  the  Canadian  as  well  as  to  the  Alle- 
ghanian  Fauna. 

The  Blue  Grosbeak  (Goniaphea  ccerulea),  some  7.25  long,  the 
male  blue,  the  female  brown,  is  a  southern  species,  reaching 
the  District  of  Columbia,  or  even  Pennsylvania  in  the  east, 
and  breeding  commonly  about  Manhattan,  Kansas,  in  the 
west.  Excepting  its  greater  size,  it  bears  a  great  resem- 
blance to  the  Indigo  Bird  in  color,  song,  and  nidification. 
The  nest  is  in  a  tree  not  many  feet  from  the  ground.  It  is 
rather  bulky,  composed  externally  of  paper,  weeds,  strings, 
bits  of  cotton  or  wool  and  cast-off  snake-skins,  and  is  lined 
with  rootlets,  fine  grasses  or  horse-hairs.  The  three  or  four 
oval  eggs,  .95X-62,  are  pale-blue. 

The  Evening  Grosbeak  (Hesperiphona  vespertind)  is  a 
straggler  from  the  northwest.  Some  7.50 -8.50  long,  "dusky 
olivaceous;  brighter  behind;  forehead,  line  over  eye  and 
under  tail-coverts,  yellow;  crown,  wings,  tail,  and  tibiae 
black,  the  secondary  quills,  mostly  white;  bill  greenish- 
yellow,  of  immense  size."  (Coues.)  It  is  noted  for  its 
melodious  evening  song. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE  SWAMP,   THE   FIELD,  AND   THE   LAKE. 

IN  all  the  domain  of  nature  there  is  nothing  which  closely 
resembles  the  nidification  of  birds.  Certain  reptiles  lay 
eggs,  but,  properly  speaking,  make  no  nest;  nor  are  their  eggs, 
which  differ  very  materially  from  those  of  birds,  incubated 
by  the  warmth  of  their  bodies.  Every  animal  comes  from 
an  egg,  but  in  the  case  of  mammalia,  the  young  are  brought 
forth  alive,  and  nourished  by  the  milk  of  the  female  parent. 
In  the  case  of  a  bird,  whether  moving  in  the  air  or  on  the 
water,  lightness  is  a  prime  necessity.  Hence,  in  bringing 
forth  their  numerous  progeny,  they  do  not  perform  the 
office  of  gestation;  but  the  nest,  and  the  external  warmth  of 
the  body,  so  well  secured  by  the  plumage,  serve  the  purpose 
of  the  uterine  organs  in  the  mammalia.  Wonderful  indeed  is 
that  internal  impulse  of  instinct,  by  which  the  bird  is  in- 
duced to  make  a  nest,  and  by  which  it  is  guided  in  the  loca- 
tion and  manner  of  constructing  the  same.  How  came  that 
mother-bird  to  know  she  needed  a  nest  ?  Who  instructed 
her  to  adapt  it  to  its  peculiar  purpose  ?  What  strange  power 
keeps  her  on  the  nest  till  the  young  are  brought  forth  ? 

For  the  most  part,  the  different  species  of  birds  have  cer- 
tain well-defined  plans  for  building  their  nests,  as  well  as 
certain  places  for  locating  them.  The  nest  is  placed  on  the 
limbs  of  a  tree  or  bush,  in  a  natural  or  prepared  cavity,  in 
an  excavation  of  the  earth,  in  some  cemented  structure,  or, 


NIDIFICA  TIOiV.  269 

more  frequently  than  anywhere  else,  on  the  ground.  Again 
these  nests  are  variously  formed  and  joined  together.  They 
are  flat  and  loosely  built  of  coarse  materials,  in  the  case 
of  most  birds  of  prey  and  Herons,  and  these  birds  are  called 
platform-builders;  or,  they  are  more  or  less  cup-shaped, 
rimmed  up,  as  in  the  case  of  the  majority  of  nests  built 
about  trees  and  bushes,  and  on  the  ground;  or,  they  are 
more  or  less  basket-shaped,  as,  for  example,  the  nests  of  the 
Red-winged  Blackbird  and  the  Vireos;  or,  they  are  sewed 
together,  as  those  of  the  Orioles,  or  that  of  the  famous 
Tailor-bird;  or,  they  have  the  structure  of  a  loose  felt;  or, 
they  are  dome-shaped.  Hence,  some  very  intelligent  writers 
have  attempted  to  classify  birds  according  to  their  styles  of 
nidification,  calling  them  carpenters,  masons,  miners,  plat- 
form-builders, basket-makers,  felt-makers,  weavers,  cement- 
ers,  tailors,  etc.  But  this  method  of  classification  fails  to 
conform  to  any  other  system,  and  bears  no  relation  what- 
ever to  the  most  important  data  for  determining  orders. 
Birds  so  similar  in  structure  and  habit,  as  to  represent  the 
same  order,  may  vary  essentially  in  their  nidification.  Most 
kinds  of  Hawks,  for  instance,  build  platform-nests  in  trees, 
while  other  kinds  construct  quite  different  nests  on  the 
ground,  and  others  still  lay  their  eggs  in  cavities  of  trees, 
almost  without  any  nest  whatever.  The  different  kinds  of 
Swallows  also  adopt  widely  different  modes  of  nesting,  some 
occupying  cavities  in  trees  or  stumps,  while  others  are 
miners,  tunneling  a  cavity  into  the  ground,  and  others  still 
are  cementers.  Besides,  the  above  method  is  imperfect  in 
itself,  failing  to  make  provision  for  some  very  important 
groups,  as  those  which  commonly  occupy  cavities  already 
prepared,  or  those  which  lay  their  eggs  on  the  ground  with- 
out any  nest,  or  those  which  build  their  nests,  raft-like,  on 
the  water.  Nor  does  the  same  species  always  construct  or 


270  NIDIFICA  TION. 

place  its  nest  in  the  same  way.  The  Song  Sparrow  is  gen- 
erally a  ground-builder,  but  in  the  latter  part  of  the  season 
it  frequently  places  its  nest  in  a  hedge  or  in  a  low  bush. 
The  Crow  Blackbirds,  in  these  parts,  invariably  build  in  a 
tree,  but  in  the  south,  Audubon  found  them  appropriating 
the  cavities  of  trees,  while  Wilson  not  infrequently  found 
them  a  sort  of  parasite  on  the  nest  of  the  Fish  Hawk. 

For  the  most  part,  birds'  eggs  are  objects  of  great  beauty. 
Their  form  is  unique  and  fine,  their  surface  highly  finished, 
and  their  colors  and  markings  often  elegant.  How  strongly 
differentiated  too,  generally,  are  the  eggs  of  the  birds  of 
each  family!  The  blue-green  eggs  of  the  Thrushes;  the 
translucent  white  eggs  of  the  Woodpeckers;  the  delicate, 
white  gems,  specked  with  red,  deposited  by  Titmice,  Nut- 
hatches and  Creepers;  the  roundish,  pure- white  eggs  of  the 
Owls;  the  light  bluish-green  eggs  of  the  Herons;  and  the 
smooth-shelled,  creamy  or  green-tinted  eggs  of  the  Ducks, 
are  all  data  for  classification  to  the  naturalist. 

Richard  Owen,  the  great  comparative  anatomist  of  Eng- 
land, after  giving  the  complicated  and  wonderful  history  of 
an  egg  in  its  various  stages  till  it  reaches  perfection;  and 
after  showing  the  nice  contrivances  in  the  yolk  and  albu- 
men, by  which  the  cicatricle  or  germ  is  always  held  upper- 
most, no  matter  how  many  times  the  egg  is  turned  over,  in 
order  to  keep  it  in  contact  with  the  sitting  dam,  and  so 
secure  incubation  and  protect  it  from  jars  or  injuries  in 
harsh  movements;  and  after  showing  how  "  the  domed  form 
of  the  hard  shell  enables  it  to  bear  the  superincumbent 
weight  of  the  brooding  mother,"  well  says:  "How  these 
modifications  of  the  oviparous  egg  in  anticipatory  relation  to 
the  needs  and  conditions  of  incubation  can  be  brought 
about  by  'selective'  or  other  operations  of  an  unintelligent 
nature  is  not  conceivable  by  me." 


BLACK-THROATED   GREEN    WARBLER.  271 

These  different  birds'  eggs,  placed  in  varied  and  artistic 
styles  of  nests,  make  bird-nesting  peculiarly  fascinating, 
especially  when  it  gratifies  a  thirst  for  knowledge.  Then 
the  careful  manner  in  which  many  nests  are  hidden  away 
among  grass  and  foliage,  or  placed  in  remote  regions,  almost 
beyond  the  reach  of  civilization,  makes  them  objects  of  an 
exciting  curiosity,  and  contributes  greatly  to  their  value. 

One  of  my  most  interesting  places  for  the  study  of  birds 
in  their  breeding  haunts  is  Tonawanda  Swamp,  bordering 
Orleans  County  on  the  south,  extending  into  Genesee  County 
southward,  and  far  to  the  eastward  and  westward.  Very 
different  indeed  is  the  character  of  its  various  localities. 
Here,  in  the  midst  of  an  almost  undisturbed  wilderness  are 
glassy  ponds  and  coves,  where  various  water-birds  revel  in 
their  migrations,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  which  some  rear  their 
young.  Here  are  miry  marshes,  tracts  of  fallen  trees  par- 
tially submerged,  forests  and  low  lands  of  dense  shrubbery 
standing  in  the  water  a  great  part  of  the  year;  dense  groves 
of  cedar,  extensive  moss-bogs,  cranberry  marshes,  and  wild 
meadows  dry  in  summer  and  in  early  autumn.  It  is  a  very 
paradise  of  wild  flowers,  shrubs,  climbing  and  running  vines, 
and  plants  both  delicate  and  curious. 

BLACK-THROATED    GREEN    WARBLER. 

On  a  beautiful  morning,  the  7th  of  May,  I  enter  one  of  the 
cedar  groves  of  the  above  region.  In  these  deep  shadowy 
recesses  I  hear  in  various  directions  the  song  of  the  Black- 
throated  Green  Warbler  (Dendrceca  virens].  The  notes  are 
most  peculiar,  and  once  identified  can  never  be  forgotten. 
Many  writers  have  described  this  song,  for  it  seems  to  sug- 
gest' to  almost  every  one  some  fancied  phrase.  One  has 
given  it  as  "  Hear  me  Saint  Ther-e-sa"  while  one  of  my 
private  correspondents  represents  the  song  by  the  ditty, 


272  BLACK-THROATED   GREEN    WARBLER. 

"A  little  bit  of  bread  and  no  cheese  j"  and  one  distinguished 

writer  has  indicated  it  simply  by  straight  lines,  thus, 

^~  .  In  all  these  attempts  I  can  detect  a  fair  de- 
scription of  the  song,  though  none  of  them  would  have  been 
suggested  to  my  ear.  I  never  hear  the  song,  however,  with- 
out thinking  of  the  following  resemblance  : — "  Wee-wee-su- 
see,"  each  syllable  uttered  slowly  and  well  drawn  out;  that 
before  the  last  in  a  lower  tone  than  the  two  former,  and  the 
last  syllable  noticeably  on  the  upward  slide;  the  whole  being 
a  sort  of  insect  tone,  altogether  peculiar,  and  by  no  means 
unpleasing.  It  seems  somehow  to  harmonize  finely  with 
pines,  larches  and  hemlocks. 

The  ordinary  four  syllables  of  this  ditty  are  sometimes 
increased  in  number  in  the  first  part,  sounding  like  wee-wee- 
wee-wee-su-see,  and  it  is  then  uttered  more  hurriedly,  making 
you  feel  that  a  breeze  may  soon  spring  up  among  the  pines; 
and  generally  the  different  strains  are  intermixed  with  sharp 
chipping  notes,  making  the  bird  appear  more  spirited  as  it 
nears  you  sufficiently  to  bring  these  metallic  notes  within 
hearing. 

Many  a  time  have  I  strained  my  eyes  after  this  little  song- 
ster, looking  up  into  the  thick  cedars  till  my  neck  seemed 
almost  dislocated,  and  getting  only  an  occasional  glimpse 
of  him,  so  shy  is  he  as  he  moves  leisurely  about  in  these 
shadowy  abodes.  A  sight  of  him,  however,  well  rewards  the 
effort,  for  he  is  a  rare  beauty.  About  5.00  long,  moulded 
after  the  Dendroeca,  the  olivaceous-green  above  often  contains 
fine  triangular  spots  of  black;  the  dusky  wing  and  tail 
feathers  have  a  narrow,  outward  edge  of  white,  while  the 
cheeks  of  lemon-yellow  with  a  wavy  line  of  blackish  through 
the  eye,  the  white  bars  across  the  wing,  and  the  jet-black 
throat,  breast  and  sides  bounding  the  greenish  white  under 
parts,  differentiate  him  strongly.  The  colors  and  markings 


BLACK-THROATED    GREEN    WARBLER.  273 

of  the  female  are  similar,  but  generally  more  obscure,  al- 
though I  have  seen  her  almost  as  fine  as  the  male. 

This  Warbler  is  always  to  be  associated  with  evergreen 
groves  and  forests.  In  New  England  it  is  found  among 
the  pines,  here  among  the  cedars  and  hemlocks.  As  its 
nest  is  placed  well  up  in  the  almost  impenetrable  thickets 
of  these  branches,  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  find.  In 
this  (Tonawanda)  swamp,  where  the  bird  resides  in  abund- 
ance throughout  the  summer,  I  have  searched  for  its  nest 
days  at  a  time,  lying  on  the  ground  and  watching  the  birds 
in  all  their  movements,  and  then  climbing  into  the  trees 
and  continuing  to  observe  them  while  they  kept  up  their 
flitting  motions  and  their  song,  almost  constantly  through- 
out the  day,  and  even  into  the  dusk  of  the  evening;  but 
never  did  I  succeed  in  finding  the  nest  in  this  locality.  On 
the  17th  of  last  June  (1881),  at  the  foot  of  the  Lecloche 
Mountains,  just  north  of  Great  Manitoulin  Island,  on  the 
Georgian  Bay,  I  finally  found  the  nest.  About  half  a  mile 
from  the  bay,  where  the  rushing  waters  of  Lacloche  Creek 
left  a  lake  in  the  mountains  for  this  grand  outlet,  I  had  dis- 
covered the  Warblers  to  be  very  numerous  —  the  Black- 
throated  Blue,  the  Yellow-rump  or  Myrtle  Bird,  the  Yellow- 
backed  Blue,  the  Black -and -yellow  or  Spotted,  the 
Chestnut-sided,  and  I  think  I  also  heard  the  Black-poll 
Warbler.  But  so  tormentingly  numerous  were  the  black 
flies,  mosquitoes,  and  gnats,  or  "  no-see-ums,"  as  the  Indi- 
ans call  them,  that  to  remain  there  for  observation  was 
unendurable.  Again  and  again  did  I  apply  the  olive  oil 
and  tar,  so  highly  recommended  as  a  preventive  of  this 
nuisance,  but  it  relieved  me  only  a  little  longer  than  while 
I  was  rubbing  it  on.  Noticing  that  the  Indians  in  my 
vicinity  made  their  half-open  wigwams  apparently  free 
from  these  vermin  by  a  smudge  in  front,  or  to  the  wind- 
18 


274  BLACK-THROATED    GREEN    WARBLER. 

ward,  I  concluded  to  profit  by  their  example,  and  setting  a 
match  to  a  few  dry  leaves  and  shreds  of  birch-bark,  upon 
which  I  piled  green  hemlock  boughs,  I  soon  had  a  relief, 
which  was  both  complete  and  agreeable;  the  hemlock  giv- 
ing off  a  most  delightful  fragrance,  as  well  as  an  abundance 
of  smoke,  in  combustion.  For  a  radius  of  several  rods 
around  me  my  minute  tormentors  were  obliged  to  flee;  and 
on  a  bed  of  moss  surrounded  by  the  delicate  and  odorous 
little  twin-flower  (that  beauty  of  the  northern  parts  of  both 
the  Old  World  and  the  New,  so  greatly  admired  by,  as  well 
as  named  after,  the  great  Linnaeus),  I  continued  my  obser- 
vations in  peace.  For  a  while  I  watch  a  pair  of  little  Yel- 
low-backed Blue  Warblers,  tugging  at  a  bunch  of  so-called 
long-green  moss — alias  usnea — hanging  from  the  dead  limb 
of  a  tall  hemlock;  but  I  am  soon  diverted  by  the  near 
approach  of  a  Black-throated  Green  Warbler,  hopping 
about  very  nervously,  her  mouth  full  of  small,  green  larva. 
Understanding  the  sign  full  well,  I  am  all  attention,  and  the 
bird  seems  equally  attentive  to  me.  For  some  time  she 
dallies  and  delays,  but  the  knowledge  of  hungry  little 
mouths  overcomes  the  parent's  hesitation,  and  in  a  more  or 
less  zigzag  line,  now  behind  the  thick  branches  and  now  in 
plain  sight,  she  soon  reaches  the  nest;  which,  behold  !  is  on 
the  limb  of  a  young  hemlock,  just  above  my  head.  "  So  near 
and  yet  so  far!"  full  well  applies  to  bird-nesting.  Not  a 
few  birds  deserve  but  little  sympathy  in  the  loss  of  their 
nests  —  they  are  such  witches  at  hiding  them  away!  No 
time  to  lose.  I  hug  the  tree  and  scramble  to  the  nest,  some 
twenty  feet  from  the  ground,  a  few  feet  from  the  trunk,  and 
where  the  limb  sends  out  several  small  boughs.  The  founda- 
tion of  the  structure  is  of  fine  shreds  of  bark  of  the  white 
birch,  fine  dry  twigs  of  the  hemlock,  bits  of  fine  grass, 
weeds,  and  dried  rootlets,  intermixed  with  usnea,  and  lined 


BLACK-AND-WHITE   CREEPING    WARBLER.         275 

with  rootlets,  fine  grass,  some  feathers,  and  horse-hair.  It 
was  rather  loose,  open,  and  bulky,  and  contained  four 
young,  partly  fledged.  Failing  to  find  the  eggs  for  myself, 
I  resort  for  description  to  a  set  from  Reading,  Massachu- 
setts, in  Professor  Ward's  collection  at  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
They  are  four  in  number,  about  .70  x  -49,  creamy-white, 
having  a  well-defined  and  beautiful  wreath  of  spots  and 
small  blotches  of  red,  brown  and  lilac,  intermixed  with  a 
few  specks  of  black. 

Wintering  in  Cuba,  Mexico  and  Central  America,  Den- 
drceca  virens  ranges  through  Eastern  North  America,  breed- 
ing from  New  York  and  Southern  New  England  northward 
to  Newfoundland.  It  enters  its  breeding  habitat  by  the 
first  week  of  May,  and  leaves  in  October.  It  has  been  found 
in  Greenland  and  in  Europe  as  a  straggler. 

THE    BLACK-AND-WHITE    CREEPING    WARBLER. 

In  this  thick  grove  of  cedars  I  am  almost  constantly  within 
sight  or  sound  of  the  Black-and-white  Creeping  Warbler 
{Mniotilta  varid).  About  five  inches  long,  spotted  and 
streaked  all  over,  except  a  white  space  underneath,  with 
jet-black  and  chalk-white,  this  bird  is  very  conspicuous  as 
it  moves  in  a  hopping,  jerking  manner  and  in  a  spiral 
direction,  very  much  in  the  style  of  the  Brown  Creeper, 
along  the  trunks  and  larger  limbs  of  trees.  Like  the  latter, 
too,  it  has  the  habit  of  descending  to  the  lower  part  of  the 
trunk  of  a  neighboring  tree,  when  getting  pretty  well  up; 
but  its  sharply  defined  markings,  especially  the  broad  white 
line  over  the  head  and  back  of  the  neck,  cause  it  to  be  seen 
much  more  readily  than  its  little  brown  neighbor,  which  is 
so  similar  in  color  and  markings  to  the  bark  which  it  climbs 
with  such  ease  and  gracefulness.  But  while  his  movements 
are  those  of  a  Creeper,  the  structure  of  Mniotilta  is  that  of  a 


276         BLACK-AND-WHITE   CREEPING    WARBLER. 

Warbler,  except  that  his  front  toes  are  a  little  more  joined 
together  at  the  base,  and  his  hind  toe  a  little  longer  and  his  bill 
somewhat  curved  toward  the  tip.  Very  remarkable  indeed  is 
this  joint  relationship  of  certain  birds  with  two  or  more 
different  groups,  so  that  it  is  only  by  a  careful  noting  of 
their  stronger  affinities  that  we  can  find  their  rank  in  classi- 
fication. They  serve  as  a  sort  of  softening  or  blending  of 
the  otherwise  harsher  boundaries  of  orders. 

Not  only  does  our  little  bird  readily  attract  the  eye;  his 
fine,  soft  and  yet  distinct  song,  ki-tsee,  ki-tsee,  ki-tsee,  ki-tseey 
as  slender  to  the  ear  as  "  hair-wire  "  to  the  eye,  and  rather 
monotonous  indeed,  but  so  peculiar,  so  tender,  so  musical, 
as  even  to  soften  and  sweeten  surrounding  nature  —  is 
equally  attractive  and  pleasing  to  the  ear.  Warbler  or 
Creeper,  he  is  one  of  the  most  welcome  and  beloved  com- 
panions of  the  dark  woods  and  deep,  swampy  ravines  which 
he  is  wont  to  inhabit.  Always  keeping  more  or  less  to  the 
lower  story  of  his  shadowy  abodes,  his  nest  is  generally  on 
the  ground,  near  the  root  of  a  decaying  stump  or  tree, 
and  so  placed  that  "an  overhanging  rock,  a  log,  the  branch- 
ing roots  of  a  tree,  or  herbage  of  the  preceding  year  affords 
protection."  It  is  a  rather  loose  and  scanty  structure  of 
dried  leaves  and  grasses,  strips  of  bark,  or  pine  needles, 
containing  perhaps  some  vegetable  down  and  horse-hair  as 
lining. 

The  eggs,  averaging  about  four,  .YOX-50  or  a  little 
more,  and  somewhat  pointed,  are  creamy  white,  finely 
specked,  more  thickly  around  the  large  end,  with  light  brown 
and  a  little  pale  lilac.  The  situation  of  this  Warbler's  nest 
seems  to  vary  considerably,  however,  in  some  cases.  In 
Louisiana  Audubon  found  it  "usually  placed  in  some  small 
hole  in  a  tree."  Nuttall  found  one  "niched  in  the  shelving 
of  a  rock."  Dr.  Brewer  reports  one  found  in  the  drain  of  a 


BLACK-AND-WHITE   CREEPING    WARBLER.         277 

house,  while  H.  D.  Minot  found  one  uin  the  cavity  of  a  tree 
rent  by  lightning,  and  about  five  feet  from  the  ground," 
and  another  "on  the  top  of  a  low  birch  stump,  which  stood 
in  a  grove  of  white  oaks." 

A  nest,  received  from  Nova  Scotia,  found  with  callow 
young  on  the  19th  of  June,  was  placed  on  the  top  of  an  old 
stump,  about  two  feet  from  the  ground,  so  set  in  the  moss 
and  dried  leaves  as  to  be  pretty  much  concealed,  the  top  of 
the  stump  somehow  supporting  several  young  maples.  The 
nest  is  quite  deep  and  substantial,  composed  of  leaves  and 
coarse  bark-fibers  throughout.  It  bears  a  decided  resem- 
blance to  the  nest  of  the  Golden-winged  Warbler. 

The  chipping,  or  ordinary  alarm  and  conversational  notes, 
of  the  Black-and-white  Creeper  is  somewhat  varied,  and 
the  female  is  not  so  clearly  marked,  having  the  black  and 
white  of  the  throat  of  the  male  replaced  by  a  dull  white  or 
grayish.  Migratory  throughout  Eastern  North  America, 
even  to  the  fur  countries,  a  few  only  remaining  in  the  extreme 
Southern  States  in  winter,  this  bird  breeds  throughout  its 
range,  in  this  habit  resembling  the  Brown  Creeper  rather 
than  the  Warblers. 

As  I  observe  this  Creeping  Warbler,  so  industriously 
gleaning  the  smaller  insects  with  their  eggs  and  larvae  from 
the  bark  of  our  forest  trees,  I  am  reminded  of  the  economic 
utility  of  our  birds  in  the  destruction  of  insects.  The 
Woodcock  and  Wilson's  Snipe  bore  into  the  soft  ground  in 
search  of  worms;  the  Sparrows,  the  Blackbirds,  the 
Thrushes,  and  many  others,  glean  the  caterpillars,  grubs, 
beetles  and  bugs  upon  its  surf  ace;  the  Barn  and  Eave  Swal- 
lows, the  Purple  Martin,  the  Bluebird  and  the  Common 
Wren,  greatly  reduce  the  spiders  and  other  noxious  insects 
about  our  residences;  King  Birds,  Shrikes,  Orioles,  Robins, 
Goldfinches,  the  Yellow  Warbler  and  the  Warbling  Vireo 


278         BLACK-AND-WHITE   CREEPING    WARBLER. 

protect  the  gardens  and  orchards  against  their  numberless 
pests;  the  Warblers,  Vireos,  Creepers  and  Nuthatches  guard 
our  noble  forests  from  the  topmost  foliage  to  the  lower 
bark-crevices;  while  even  the  Hawks  and  Owls  contribute 
not  a  little  to  the  same  great  work  of  keeping  in  check  the 
swarming  hosts  of  insects.  The  feathered  tribes  are  there- 
fore our  most  useful  allies  against  that  part  of  animated 
nature  which  more  than  any  other  endangers  our  welfare, 
namely,  those  insects  which  threaten  our  very  subsistence. 
It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  indiscriminate  slaughter  of 
any  of  our  birds  is  wise. 

Changing  my  position  somewhat  in  this  great  swamp,  I 
come  into  a  wet  slashing,  having  a  dense  second  growth  of 
evergreens  and  various  kinds  of  hard  wood.  O,  the  native 
vines  and  wild  flowers  which  everywhere  abound!  How 
completely  that  Virginia  creeper  has  enveloped  the  trunk 
and  larger  limbs  of  yonder  tall  elm,  its  digitate  or  hand- 
shaped  leaves  of  five  pointed  and  serrate  leaflets  of  dark  and 
glossy  green,  covering  the  bark  like  a  thick  luxuriant  mantle, 
and  making  the  tree  appear  at  once  most  graceful  and 
superb.  That  virgin's  bower  entwining  its  petioles  so  ele- 
gantly around  a  clump  of  bushes,  either  in  its  bloom  so  like 
a  fall  of  light  snow-flakes,  or  in  the  heavy  plumes  of  its 
fruitage,  may  vie  with  any  member  of  its  family,  even  the 
gay  hybrids  of  the  Old  World.  The  remains  of  that  large 
tree  —  a  very  monarch  of  the  forest,  fallen  generations  ago 
perhaps  —  is  enrobed  in  a  thick  plumose  covering  of  hyp- 
num  mosses,  variegated  with  star-flowers  and  mitreworts,  in 
a  manner  which  defies  description.  And  what  shall  we  say 
of  the  lady  slippers,  azalias,  and  honeysuckles,  just  about 
to  unfold  their  charms?  Art  can  do  much  in  the  way  of 
placing  and  adjusting  nature's  beauties,  but  what  can  equal 
the  grace  of  wild  vines,  plants  and  flowers  in  their  native 


THE   CANADA    WARBLER.  2 79 

arrangements?  The  wild  grape-vine  will  festoon  the  forest 
into  domes,  arches,  and  colonades,  till  it  would  seem  the 
very  haunt  of  faries  and  sylvan  deities.  Liverworts,  lichens 
and  ferns  will  drape  the  scars,  rents  and  chasms  of  the 
earth's  surface  with  an  inimitable  beauty.  I  have  seen  an 
old  decayed  stump  in  the  forest,  so  dressed  up  from  base 
to  top  in  fine  mosses,  and  the  whole  broad  top  such  a  mass 
of  enchanter's  nightshade  with  its  delicate  spray  of  leaves 
and  ethereal  white  blossoms,  as  to  make  it  an  object  to  be 
coveted  for  the  most  royal  domain.  Had  I  enough  of 
Mother  Earth  that  I  could  call  my  own,  I  would  have  a 
flower  garden  according  to  nature;  one  which  might  show 
no  trace  of  human  interference.  If  Adam  and  Eve  had  the 
judgment  and  good  taste  generally  attributed  to  them,  in 
some  such  manner,  I  think,  must  they  have  kept  the  Garden 
of  Eden. 

THE    CANADA    WARBLER. 

From  a  point  in  the  thick  bushes,  somewhere  near  by, 
there  comes  a  song  so  peculiar  both  in  enunciation  and  in 
tone,  that  my  genial  companion  in  these  sylvan  studies 
challenges  my  imitation  of  it.  I  finally  resolve  it,  however, 
into  the  following  syllables: — chi-reach-a-dee,  reach-a-deey 
reach-a-dee-chi — uttered  in  a  hurried  and  spirited  manner, 
with  a  striking  mixture  of  sibilant  notes,  and  so  much  of 
ventriloquism  that  it  seems  almost  impossible  to  locate  the 
singer,  though  he  be  but  a  few  yards  distant.  The  bird, 
moreover,  is  so  shy  and  such  an  adept  at  concealment  in 
the  thick  foliage  that  I  spend  many  minutes  in  the  most 
attentive  observation  before  I  can  get  even  a  glimpse  of 
him.  Finally,  while  on  hands  and  knees  I  am  peering  out 
from  under  a  thick  bed  of  cinnamon  ferns,  the  songster,  all 
unconscious  of  my  presence,  stands  out  in  full  view.  About 
5.50  long,  the  bluish-ash  on  the  entire  upper  parts  blends 


280  THE   CANADA    WARBLER. 

with  the  shadows  in  the  thicket,  and  the  bright  lemon-yel- 
low of  the  entire  under  parts  seems  almost  the  effect  of  the 
sunlight  through  the  openings  among  the  leaves;  but  there 
is  a  broad  collar  of  jet-black  spots  across  the  breast,  over 
the  forehead  and  down  the  cheeks  and  sides  of  the  neck, 
where  the  bluish-ash  of  the  upper  parts  joins  the  yellow  of 
the  throat,  the  former  color  shading  into  clear  black  as  it 
meets  the  line  —  these  markings,  along  with  the  yellow  eye- 
lids, help  me  to  define  him  as  the  Canada  Warbler  (Myio- 
dioctes  canadensis).  I  find  the  bird  abundant  here  in  almost 
any  swampy  region  throughout  the  breeding  season;  and 
there  is,  I  think,  no  appreciable  difference  between  the  sexes. 
Having  identified  my  specimen,  and  risen  from  my  place  of 
concealment,  the  bird  becomes  greatly  excited,  hopping 
about  among  the  leaves,  bowing  and  "  courtesying  "  prettily 
indeed,  but  not  obsequiously,  and  uttering  a  sharp  chipping 
note.  I  am  reminded  by  the  white  or  flesh-colored  legs 
and  feet  that  this  is  what  is  commonly  called  a  Ground 
Warbler,  and  that  its  nest,  therefore,  is  on  the  ground.  I 
make  diligent  search,  as  I  have  often  done  since,  but  all  in 
vain.  A  Ground  Warbler's  nest  is  one  of  the  very  hardest  to 
find.  Others,  however,  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  find  the 
nest,  and  from  them  I  make  out  the  following  description: 
Mr.  Burroughs  found  one  in  the  bank  of  a  stream;  Mr. 
Boshart,  of  Lowville,  N.  Y.,  found  one  sunk  into  the  moss 
on  the  side  of  an  old  log,  while  others  generally  report  the 
nest  as  found  on  the  ground;  Audubon  alone  describing  it 
as  built  otherwise — "  in  the  fork  of  a  small  branch  of  laurel, 
not  above  four  feet  from  the  ground."  It  is  coarsely  and 
rather  loosely  built  of  leaves,  dried  grasses,  etc.,  lined  with 
horse-hair.  The  eggs,  .68X.50,  are  white,  marked  with 
brown  and  lilac,  somewhat  clouded  at  the  large  end,  and 
slightly  specked  all  over. 


THE    WINTER    WREN.  281 

Wintering  beyond  the  United  States,  the  Canada  Warbler 
extends  through  Eastern  North  America  to  Labrador,  breed- 
ing from  New  York  northward. 

I  do  not  think  this  bird  is  as  numerous  far  to  the  north  or 
northeast  as  it  is  in  suitable  places  in  this  locality.  Mr. 
Chamberlain  reports  it  as  only  an  occasional  summer  resi- 
dent in  New  Brunswick,  and  I  did  not  find  it  in  Nova 
Scotia,  nor  does  Mr.  Downs,  of  Halifax,  report  it  in  his  pri- 
vate list  of  the  Warblers  sent  to  me. 

Its  bill  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  that  of  a  Flycatcher, 
and  it  has  therefore  been  called  a  Flycatching  Warbler. 

THE   WINTER   WREN. 

Working  my  way  back  among  the  cedars  to  a  spot  where 
the  timber  has  been  somewhat  thinned  by  the  axe  of  the 
woodman,  and  where  brush  is  piled  up  here  and  there,  I  am 
startled  by  a  most  remarkable  bird-song,  which  I  have  sev- 
eral times  heard  in  these  parts  before,  but  have  never  been 
able  to  identify.  Copious,  rapid,  prolonged  and  penetrating, 
having  a  great  variety  of  the  sweetest  tones,  and  uttered  in 
a  rising  and  falling  or  finely  undulating  melody,  from  every 
region  of  these  "  dim  isles  "  this  song  calls  forth  the  sweet- 
est woodland  echo.  It  seems  as  if  the  very  atmosphere  be- 
came resonant.  I  stand  entranced  and  amazed,  my  very 
soul  vibrating  to  this  gushing  melody,  which  seems  at  once 
expressive  of  the  wildest  joy  and  the  tenderest  sadness.  Is 
it  the  voice  of  some  woodland  elf,  breaking  forth  into  an 
ecstasy  of  delight,  but  ending  its  lyric  in  melting  notes  of 
sorrow  ?  I  strain  my  eyes  this  way  and  that  way  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  songster  in  the  gloom  of  these  damp,  shadowy 
regions,  but  cannot  determine  even  the  precise  direction  of 
the  sounds,  so  much  of  ventriloquism  is  there  in  this  won- 
derful performance.  Having  turned  to  every  point  of  the 


282  THE    WINTER    WREN. 

compass,  I  finally  discover  the  singer.  He  is  perched  on  a 
small  dry  limb  of  a  cedar  a  few  feet  from  the  ground.  The 
volume  and  tone  of  the  song  lead  me  to  expect  a  bird  at 
least  as  large  as  a  Thrush,  but  lo,  he  is  one  of  the  most  di- 
minutive of  the  feathered  tribes — the  Winter  Wren  !  I  can- 
not be  mistaken,  for  quite  near  and  in  full  view,  his  short 
tail  thrown  forward  and  his  head  partially  raised,  I  can  see 
his  breast  swell  and  tremble  while  he  several  times  repeats 
his  song.  About  4.00  long,  and  thus  about  a  half  inch 
shorter  than  the  Common  or  House  Wren,  and  of  the  same 
reddish-brown  waved  with  darker,  the  Winter  Wren  (Anor- 
thura  troglodytes  van  hyemalis)  is  to  be  distinguished  by  his 
much  shorter  tail,  and  his  white  or  whitish  markings  on  the 
sides  of  the  head  and  on  the  primaries.  But  one  does  well 
to  make  out  this  much  while  the  bird  is  "in  the  bush  ;" — so 
diminutive,  so  nearly  the  color  of  dried  bark  and  leaves, 
and  dodging  in  and  out  of  rock-crevices,  brush  heaps  and 
bushes  with  the  ease  and  rapidity  of  a  mouse,  it  will  be 
necessary,  in  most  cases,  to  obtain  the  bird  "  in  the  hand  " 
in  order  to  identify  it. 

Though  this  species  may  be  heard  occasionally  in  the 
cool  cedar  groves  of  Tonawanda  Swamp  throughout  the 
breeding  season,  I  have  not  been  one  of  the  very  few  fortu- 
nate enough  to  find  its  nest.  Audubon  found  two  nests. 
One  was  in  the  pine  woods  of  Pennsylvania,  near  Mauch 
Chunk,  on  the  lower  part  of  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  "a  pro- 
tuberance covered  with  moss  and  lichens,  resembling  those 
excrescences  which  are  often  seen  on  our  forest  trees,  with 
this  difference,  that  the  aperture  was  perfectly  rounded, 
clean,  and  quite  smooth.  *  *  *  Externally,  it  measured 
seven  inches  in  length,  four  and  a  half  in  breadth;  the 
thickness  of  its  walls,  composed  of  moss  and  lichens,  was 
nearly  two  inches;  and  thus  it  presented  internally  the 


THE    WINTER    WREN.  283 

appearance  of  a  narrow  bag,  the  wall,  however,  being  re- 
duced to  a  few  lines  where  it  was  in  contact  with  the  bark 
of  the  tree.  The  lower  half  of  the  cavity  was  compactly 
lined  with  the  fur  of  the  American  Hare,  and  in  the  bottom 
or  bed  of  the  nest  there  lay  over  this  about  half  a  dozen  of 
the  large,  downy  abdominal  feathers  of  our  Common  Grouse, 
(Tetraoumbellus).  The  eggs  were  of  a  delicate  blush  color, 
somewhat  resembling  the  paler  leaves  of  a  partially  decayed 
rose,  and  marked  with  dots  of  reddish-brown,  more  numer- 
ous towards  the  larger  end."  The  second  nest  he  found 
"was  attached  to  the  lower  part  of  a  rock,"  on  the  bank 
of  the  Mohawk  River.  It  was  similar  to  the  other,  only 
smaller,  and  contained  six  eggs,  the  same  number  as  found 
in  the  former. 

The  nest,  with  eggs  of  this  species  upon  which  our  later 
ornithologists  have  been  pretty  much  dependent  for  their 
descriptions,  was  found  by  W.  F.  Hall  in  Eastern  Maine; 
the  "  nest  built  in  an  unoccupied  log-hut,  among  the  fir- 
leaves  and  mosses  in  a  crevice  between  the  logs.  It  was 
large  and  bulky,  composed  externally  of  mosses,  and  lined 
with  feathers  and  the  fur  of  hedge-hogs.  The  shape  was 
that  of  a  pouch,  the  entrance  being  neatly  framed  with 
sticks,  and  the  walls  very  strong,  thick,  and  firmly  com- 
pacted. Its  hemlock  framework  had  been  made  of  green 
materials,  and  their  agreeable  odor  pervaded  the  whole 
structure." 

Mr.  H.  D.  Minot  says:  "Five  eggs,  not  quite  fresh, 
which  I  took  from  a  nest  in  the  White  Mountains  on  the 
23d  of  July  (probably  those  of  a  second  set),  were  pure 
crystal-white,  thinly  and  minutely  specked  with  bright 
reddish-brown,  and  averaging  about  .70X.50  of  an  inch. 
The  nest,  thickly  lined  with  feathers  of  the  Ruffed  Grouse, 
was  in  a  low,  moss-covered  stump,  about  a  foot  high,  in  a 


284  THE    SHORT-BILLED  MARSH    WREN. 

dark,  swampy  forest,  filled  with  tangled  piles  of  fallen  trees 
and  branches.  The  entrance  to  the  nest  on  one  side  was 
very  narrow,  its  diameter  being  less  than  an  inch,  and  was 
covered  with  an  overhanging  bit  of  moss,  which  the  bird 
was  obliged  to  push  up  on  going  in." 

In  1878  Mr.  James  Bradbury,  of  Maine,  found  three  nests, 
one  "sunk  into  the  thick  moss  which  enveloped  the  trunk 
of  a  fallen  tree,"  and  two  placed  under  the  roots  of  fallen 
trees.  All  the  above  nests  seemed  to  resemble  each  other  in 
being  more  or  less  globular,  with  an  entrance  at  the  side, 
the  external  structure  being  of  moss,  or  of  moss  and  twigs, 
and  thickly  lined  with  fur  and  feathers;  each  nest  being  in- 
geniously concealed  or  ensconced  away.  The  eggs,  five  or 
six,  some  .65X-50,  are  crystal-white,  specked  and  spotted 
with  reddish-brown,  the  markings  being  generally  distribu- 
ted or  gathered  about  the  large  end. 

This  species,  closely  allied  to  the  Common  Wren  of  Eu- 
rope, occupies  all  North  America,  wintering  from  the  Mid- 
dle States,  or  even  New  England,  southward;  and  breeding 
from  about  the  same  point  northward,  especially  in  Maine 
and  even  in  Labrador. 

Considering  the  smallness  of  its  wings,  and  its  ordinarily 
short  flights,  the  immense  distances  of  its  migrations  have 
always  been  a  great  mystery  to  ornithologists.  Alaska  has 
a  larger  variety  of  this  species,  named  Anorthura  alascensis. 

THE    SHORT-BILLED    MARSH    WREN. 

As  I  traverse  an  open  marsh  in  another  part  of  this  same 
swamp,  a  part  which  is  wet  in  the  late  fall  and  the  early 
spring,  but  dry  in  summer,  I  find  the  Short-billed  Marsh 
Wrens  (Cistothorus  stellaris)  in  considerable  numbers.  If 
dependent  on  the  eye  merely  it  would  be  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult to  find  these  diminutive  creatures,  as  they  are  nearly  all 


THE  SHORT-BILLED  MARSH    WREN.  285 

the  time  down  out  of  sight  in  the  clumps  of  bushes,  the  tall 
grasses  or  the  still  taller  sedges;  but  one  is  constantly  aided 
in  the  search  for  them  by  their  noisy  notes  and  odd  songs. 
Chip-chip-chi-chi-chi-chi,  or  tsip-tsip-tse-tse-tse-tse  —  the  first 
two  or  three  notes  being  uttered  more  slowly,  the  rest 
very  rapidly,  and  all  in  a  sharp,  metallic  and  spirited  tone 
—  may  represent  the  song,  which  is  not  very  musical, 
indeed,  but  rather  pleasing,  and  decidedly  enlivening  to 
these  otherwise  quiet  marshes.  Like  any  other  Wren,  this 
species  is  exceedingly  sprightly  in  all  its  motions,  and  is  a 
very  adept  at  clinging  to  and  sliding  up  and  down  the 
culms  of  grasses  and  sedges  —  tipping,  tilting  and  tossing 
its  tail  in  every  conceivable  manner.  In  voice  and  in  action 
it  is  certainly  an  intensely  animated  bit  of  nature.  Scarcely 
4.50  long,  and  very  slender,  it  is  streaked  with  light  and 
dark  brown  over  the  head,  nearly  black,  mixed  with  some 
reddish  brown  and  streaked  with  white  on  the  back,  wings 
and  tail  dusky,  barred  with  light  brown,  under  parts  gray- 
ish-white, shading  into  light  brown  on  the  sides. 

The  nest,  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a  common  cocoa- 
nut,  composed  of  dried  and  thoroughly  bleached  grasses 
and  sedges,  is  closely  compacted,  with  a  clear  round  open- 
ing on  the  side  near  the  top,  and  is  more  or  less  lined  with 
vegetable  down.  This  structure  rests  on  the  ground  at  the 
roots  of  the  sedges,  or  is  tied  to  their  culms  a  very  few  inches 
from  the  ground.  In  this  and  corresponding  localities  it  is 
made  early  in  June.  The  eggs,  some  7  or  8,  about  .54X.48, 
so  rather  roundish — (Dr.  Cones  reports  them  "rather  elon- 
gate")—  are  of  a  fine  porcelain-white,  having  the  highly 
finished  surface  of  the  Woodpecker's  eggs.  These  white 
eggs  are  an  anomaly  among  Wrens. 

The  Short-billed  Marsh  Wrens  are  said  by  Nuttall  — 
who  was  the  first  to  point  them  out  as  different  from  the 


286      MARYLAND    YELLOW-THROATED    WARBLER. 

Common  Marsh  Wren  —  to  "spend  much  of  their  time  in 
quest  of  insects,  chiefly  crustaceous,  which,  with  moths, 
constitute  their  principal  food." 

This  species  differs  from  the  Common  Marsh  Wren  in  its 
notes;  in  its  shorter  bill;  in  its  darker  colored  breast;  in  its 
inhabiting  dryer  places  —  its  nest  never,  I  think,  being  placed 
over  water;  in  the  position  of  its  nest,  always  on  or  near  the 
ground — being  composed  of  bleached  material  and  very  com- 
pactly made  (wrongly  figured  by  Audubon) — and,  particu- 
larly, in  its  pure  white  eggs. 

Wintering  in  the  Southern  States,  the  Short-billed  Marsh 
Wren  breeds  throughout  the  Eastern  United  States  to  New 
England  and  Manitoba;  but  it  is  not  nearly  as  generally 
distributed  as  its  cousin  of  the  longer  bill.  It  reaches  these 
middle  districts  early  in  May,  and  leaves  early  in  September. 

MARYLAND    YELLOW-THROATED    WARBLER. 

Reaching  a  bog,  where,  in  trying  to  cross,  I  sink  at 
every  step  into  an  almost  bottomless  bed  of  soft  moss,  I 
hope  to  find  something  new.  In  respect  to  plants,  I  see  at 
once  that  I  shall  not  be  disappointed.  Here  is  the  curious 
pitcher-plant  in  abundance.  Its  leaves,  having  the  bowl, 
handle  and  spout  of  a  pitcher,  are  full  of  water;  and  its 
flower,  which  will  appear  in  a  few  weeks,  will  be  almost  as 
curious  as  its  leaves.  Here  too,  I  find  the  marvelous  little 
sundew,  Drosera  rotundi folia,  about  which  the  evolutionist, 
Darwin,  has  written  so  much.  The  little  round  leaves  are 
thickly  beset  with  transparent  bristles,  each  of  which  bears 
on  its  extremity  a  viscid  globule  as  clear  as  a  dew-drop. 
These  glandular  hairs  are  said  to  be  sensitive,  and  to  entrap 
insects,  but  I  cannot  make  the  experiment  succeed. 

Around  the  edge  of  this  bog,  among  the  varied  shrubbery 
belonging  almost  entirely  to  the  Heath  and  Rose  families, 


MARYLAND    YELLOW-THROATED    WARBLER.       287 

I  hear  the  song  of  the  Maryland  Yellow-throat  (Geothlypis 
trichas],  a  warbler  quite  common  to  the  shrubbery  of  our 
swamps  and  low  lands.  The  song  of  this  bird  is  very  dis- 
tinctive and  easy  to  recognize.  Weech-a-tee,  weech-a-tee, 
weech-a-tee,  weech-a-tee,  in  loud  whistling  tones,  slowly  and 
distinctly  uttered,  and  strongly  accented  on  the  first  syllable 
of  each  repetition,  represent  it  to  my  imagination.  Some- 
times, however,  a  syllable  of  each  group  of  notes  is  left  out, 
making  the  melody  sound  like  weech-ee,  weech-ee,  weech-ee, 
weech-ee.  The  song  is  very  constant,  but  the  singer  is  rather 
shy,  keeping  out  of  sight  in  the  thick  foliage  the  greater 
part  of  the  time.  Nearly  5.00  long,  and  having  a  very  short, 
round  wing  for  a  warbler,  the  male  is  olive-green  above, 
becoming  grayish  on  the  back  of  the  head  and  neck,  throat 
and  under  parts  yellow,  becoming  lighter  on  the  belly;  over 
the  forehead  and  eyes  and  down  the  cheeks  is  a  broad  band 
of  jet-black,  bordered  behind  with  ash  which  shades  into 
the  grayish-green  beyond  ;  legs,  flesh-color.  The  female 
lacks  the  black  and  ash  on  the  head,  and  has  the  crown 
brownish.  In  sprightliness  of  song  and  distinctive  color  of 
plumage,  this  Warbler  ranks  high,  being  one  of  those  bright, 
melodious  birds  of  the  swamp  which,  like  certain  very  brill- 
iant and  fragrant  flowers  of  the  same  locality,  are  a  de- 
lightful offsetting  to  stagnant  pools,  quagmires,  pestiferous 
vapors,  and  tormenting  insects.  Like  the  rest  of  the  War- 
blers, it  is  a  great  destroyer  of  insects,  without  at  any  time 
injuring  the  products  of  industry. 

The  nest  of  this  species  is  on  the  ground  near  some  stream, 
or  in  a  low,  wet  place  at  the  roots  of  bushes;  is  generally 
well  sunken  into  the  ground,  made  of  dried  leaves  and 
grasses,  often  lined  with  hair,  and  is  sometimes  arched  over 
after  the  manner  of  the  Golden-crowned  Accentor.  Mr.  W. 
Brewster  found  a  nest  of  this  species  on  June  3d,  1875,  in 


288  THE  BOBOLINK. 

the  top  of  a  ground  juniper,  some  two  feet  from  the  ground. 
The  4  or  5  eggs,  some  .70X-55,  are  white,  specked  and 
spotted,  sometimes  wreathed  with  light  brown  and  lilac. 
Clear  white  eggs  rarely,  occur. 

Wintering  sparingly  in  our  southern  border,  but  mostly 
beyond,  the  Maryland  Yellow-throat  breeds  throughout  the 
Union,  abundantly  in  the  Middle  States,  and  commonly  in 
New  England  and  Nova  Scotia.  Audubon  saw  none  in 
Newfoundland  nor  in  Labrador. 

THE    BOBOLINK. 

Leaving  the  swamp  and  coming  out  into  the  broad  mead- 
ows in  the  vicinity,  I  am  greeted  by  the  newly-arrived 
Bobolink  (Dolichonyx  oryzivorus).  It  is  difficult  to  speak  of 


THE    BOBOLINK. 


the  Bobolink  without  going  into  ecstasies.  To  say  the 
least,  he  is  the  finest  bird  of  our  fields  and  meadows.  See 
him  mount  that  stake  by  the  road-side!  Every  feather  of 
his  jet-black  front  is  partially  raised,  the  elegant  creamy- 
white  patch  on  the  back  of  the  head  and  neck  is  elevated  into 
a  crest;  his  wings  and  scapulars,  so  finely  marked  with  white, 


THE  BOBOLINK.  289 

are  partially  extended;  and  as  he  pours  forth  his  marvelous 
song,  he  waltzes  gracefully  to  his  own  music,  turning  slowly 
around,  so  that  the  beholder  may  have  a  fair  view  of  all 
sides.  Now  he  launches  into  the  air,  and — half  hovering — 
half  flying — his  song  becomes  even  more  resonant  and  pene- 
trating; the  loud,  rich,  liquid  notes  of  his  prolonged  and 
varied  warble  causing  the  air  to  vibrate  over  many  acres  of 
the  open  field.  The  first  tinkling  tones  are  like  those  of  a 
fine  musical  box  rapidly  struck,  then  come  the  longer  drawn 
notes  as  of  a  rich  viol  or  violin,  and  finally  the  sweet  liquid, 
limpid,  gurgling  sounds  as  of  an  exquisite  bell-toned  piano 
lightly  and  skillfully  touched.  These  several  different 
strains,  variously  modulated,  are  uttered  with  a  rapid,  gush- 
ing volubility,  which  to  an  untrained  ear  might  sound  like 
the  performance  of  a  whole  chorus  of  songsters.  As  the 
strain  ceases,  he  drops  down  most  gracefully  with  elevated 
wings  into  the  clover,  or,  grasping  the  elastic  culms  of  the 
taller  grasses,  swings  proudly  on  his  tiny  perch.  Each  in- 
dividual adopts  his  own  territory  and  adheres  to  it,  compell- 
ing his  intruding  neighbor  to  retire  to  his  own  side  of  the 
road  or  fence,  and  then  returning  to  his  own  domain  with 
the  air  of  independence  and  authority.  Here  he  keeps  up 
his  proud  antics  and  charming  melody  some  week  or  ten 
days  before  the  female  arrives.  Only  7.50  long,  and  very 
nearly  the  colors  and  marking  of  a  Sparrow — the  lighter 
parts  being  simply  a  little  more  yellowish  —  you  would 
never  suspect  her  relation  to  such  a  gay  consort.  He  recog- 
nizes her  at  once,  however,  and  begins  his  ardent  demon- 
strations. He  sings  and  waltzes  to  her,  hovers  in  front  of 
her,  fairly  rending  his  throat  in  the  ardor  of  his  musical  per- 
formance; and  when  she  in  her  coyness,  real  or  feigned,  flees 
from  him,  he  pursues  her  closely,  and  they  dash  in  and  out 
of  bushes,  trees,  and  fences  with  the  most  perilous  speed. 
19 


290  THE  BOBOLINK. 

More  than  once  he  slackens  the  chase  for  a  few  minutes, 
alighting  and  throwing  in  a  few  of  his  finest  musical  flour- 
ishes, and  again  renews  it  as  ardently  as  ever,  till  at  length 
he  completely  wins  the  object  of  his  passion.  Now  they  are 
seen  together  for  a  short  time,  and  then  the  modest  female 
retires  among  the  clover  and  the  taller  grasses  of  the  lux- 
uriant meadow;  and,  scooping  out  a  rather  deep  cavity  in 
the  ground,  arranges  a  frail,  loose  nest  of  dried  grasses,  and 
lays  her  5  eggs — averaging  about  .90X-67,  white  tinged 
with  brown,  spotted,  blotched,  and  clouded  with  several 
shades  of  brown,  and  also  a  neutral  shade  of  brownish-lilac. 
She  adheres  most  closely  to  her  nest.  In  walking  across 
the  field  you  may  almost  step  on  her  before  she  will  leave 
her  treasures.  Then  flying  only  a  few  feet,  she  is  instantly 
out  of  sight  again;  and  unless  you  are  a  ready  observer,  or 
have  some  knowledge  of  birds  and  nests,  you  will  be  puzzled 
to  know  what  you  have  found.  As  the  Bobolink  raises  but 
one  brood,  and  in  the  thick  grass,  some  time  before  the  hay 
is  cut,  its  nest  is  but  seldom  seen  by  the  farmer. 

During  the  whole  period  of  incubation  the  male  is  one 
of  the  happiest  of  birds.  Without  any  perceptible  sense  of 
care,  or  of  any  misgiving  whatever,  he  keeps  up  his  gay  per- 
formances of  waltzing,  flight,  and  song,  with  but  little 
intermission,  his  beautiful  figure  adding  greatly  to  the  charms 
of  the  summer  landscape,  and  his  far-reaching  melody 
harmonizing  grandly  with  the  joyousness  of  the  season, 
and  ever  cheering  the  husbandman  in  his  long  hours  of  toil. 

If  the  Bay- winged  Sparrow  is  "the  poet  of  the  plain, 
unadorned  pastures,"  the  Bobolink  is  the  poet  of  the  luxu- 
riant blooming  meadows,  announcing  the  beauty  and  the 
promise  of  the  fruit-blossoms,  and  hymning  the  bright  hues 
and  the  fragrance  of  the  clover.  It  is  the  utterance  of  all 
the  youth  and  joy  of  spring — of  an  unbounded  hilarity. 


THE  BOBOLINK.  291 

In  due  time  the  young  appear,  a  thrifty  family,  all  clad 
in  the  plain  but  beautiful  habit  of  the  female,  having  a  great 
deal  of  yellow,  almost  of  bright  yellow,  on  the  under 
parts.  When  they  leave  the  nest  the  parents  show  the  great- 
est solicitude  for  them,  flitting  about  in  the  most  excited 
manner,  and  chipping  loudly  when  their  domain  is  intruded 
upon. 

The  nest  of  the  Bobolink  being  so  well  hid  away,  and  in 
parts  little  infested  by  enemies,  it  would  seem  that  the 
species  must  sustain  but  a  small  loss  during  the  breed- 
ing season. 

These  birds  have  their  casualties,  however.  Walking 
once  over  a  meadow  along  a  little  stream,  I  saw  a  young 
Bobolink  fluttering  over  the  edge  of  the  water;  and  going 
up  to  it,  saw  something  like  a  good  sized  stone  just  under 
it,  which  I  imagined  had  in  some  way  fastened  down  the 
bird  so  that  it  could  not  get  away.  Taking  hold  of  the 
supposed  stone  and  lifting  it  out  of  the  water  to  free  the 
bird,  my  friend  accompanying  me  called  out,  "a  turtle!" 
Sure  enough!  a  large  turtle  had  been  holding  the  bird  by 
the  foot,  but  relinquished  it  on  my  interference.  I  do  not 
know  which  was  the  quickest,  I  to  let  go  the  turtle,  or  the 
bird  to  fly  away  to  the  woods  beyond. 

Perhaps  the  bird,  thinking  this  reptile  a  stone,  had  lit  on 
it  to  drink,  and  had  thus  been  entraped  by  the  treacherous 
object. 

About  the  20th  of  August  these  birds  are  gathered  in 
flocks  preparatory  to  migration.  By  this  time  the  old  males 
have  laid  aside  the  gay  livery  of  the  breeding  season,  and 
appear  as  plain  and  sparrow-like  as  the  rest  of  the  family. 
Imagine  the  chagrin  and  disappointment  of  European  bird 
fanciers,  in  the  early  history  of  our  country,  who,  having 
captured  Bobolink  in  all  the  glory  of  the  breeeding  season, 


292  THE  BOBOLINK. 

beheld  him  turn  brown  and  spotted  as  a  Sparrow  and  be- 
come voiceless  ere  they  reached  the  end  of  their  long- 
voyage  homeward!  Nor  does  this  bird  ever  resume  his 
bright  colors  while  caged.  Exceedingly  perplexing,  too, 
was  this  change  of  plumage  to  the  first  students  of  Ameri- 
can ornithology,  who  saw  the  males  migrate  in  immense 
numbers  to  the  north  in  spring,  but  saw  none  return  to  the 
south  in  autumn. 

As  soon  as  the  Bobolinks  begin  to  flock  for  their  very 
leisurely  fall  migration,  their  whole  manner  is  entirely 
changed.  Who, would  imagine  those  immense  flocks  of 
plain  birds,  flying  high,  and  in  the  swift  undulating  manner 
of  the  Goldfinch,  over  the  marshes  about  Niagara  River  in 
August,  to  be  the  same  species  which  he  saw  enlivening  the 
meadows  the  spring  before.  That  plain  and  subdued  note 
which  it  repeats  quite  leisurely — quait,  quait,  quait- — could  give 
no  clue  to  the  voice  of  the  same  bird  a  few  weeks  earlier. 
But  fire  into  the  flock  as  they  alight  among  the  weeds  and 
grasses  after  the  manner  of  Snowbirds  in  winter,  and  like 
them,  feed  on  seeds  instead  of  insects,  and  you  will  find 
them  to  be  veritable  Bobolinks  in  excellent  condition,  and 
not  at  all  of  mean  appearance,  clad  in  their  finely-marked 
suits  of  greenish-yellow  and  brown.  These  autumnal  mi- 
grations continue  through  the  day  and  the  night,  and  pretty 
much  throughout  the  month  of  August  along  Niagara  River 
and  along  the  shores  of  our  Great  Lakes  in  its  vicinity.  In 
the  day-time  even,  one  often  hears  the  familiar  migratory 
note  above  given,  without  being  able  to  see  the  birds.  On 
looking  carefully,  however,  one  can  see  them  flying  very 
high,  seeming  scarcely  more  than  dark  specks  against  the 
sky. 

As  these  birds  move  southward,  they  receive  different 
names  according  to  their  habits  of  diet.  In  Eastern 


THE    YELLOW-WINGED   SPARROW.  293 

Pennsylvania,  where  they  feed  on  the  seeds  of  the  reeds 
along  the  rivers,  they  are  called  Reed-birds,  and  in  the 
south,  where  they  feed  on  the  rice,  they  are  called  Rice- 
birds. 

Wintering  beyond  our  boundaries,  this  bird  enters  the 
Eastern  United  States  in  large  numbers,  and  reaching  the 
Middle  States  about  the  first  of  May,  breeds  from  thence 
northward  to  the  Saskatchawan,  and  west  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  To  the  eastward,  Mr.  Smith  reports  it  as  breed- 
ing abundantly  in  Maine  ;  Mr.  Chamberlain  gives  it  as  a 
common  summer  resident  in  New  Brunswick,  particularly 
in  the  valley  of  the  St.  John  River,  and  I  found  it  plentiful 
last  June  in  the  Annapolis  Valley,  Nova  Scotia,  but  did  not 
see  it  elsewhere  in  the  Province.  Mr.  Maynard  gives  its 
summer  habitat  between  38°  and  48°.  Arriving  in  Western 
New  York  during  the  first  week  in  May,  it  reaches  Maine 
about  the  middle  of  that  month,  and  New  Brunswick  about 
the  last. 

On  account  of  its  short,  thick  bill,  this  bird  was  once  called 
a  Bunting,  but  its  general  structure  places  it  among  the 
Marsh  Blackbirds  or  American  Starlings;  and  as  its  white 
markings  are  similar  to  those  of  a  Skunk,  it  has  also  been 
called  the  Skunk  Blackbird. 

THE  YELLOW-WINGED    SPARROW. 

Perched  on  the  fence  by  the  roadside,  in  a  neighborhood 
called  Pine  Hill,  is  the  Yellow-winged  Sparrow  (Coturniculus 
passerinus).  It  is  not  at  all  common  here,  and  seems  confined 
to  certain  dry  or  sandy  fields.  Some  5.00  long,  with  wings 
much  rounded  and  tail-feathers  narrow  and  pointed,  the 
plumage  above  is  dark  brown,  almost  black,  edged  with 
buff;  head  of  the  former  color,  with  clear  median  line  of  the 
latter;  this  bird  is  distinguishable  from  all  other  Sparrows 


294  THE    YELLOW-WINGED   SPARROW. 

of  its  size  in  this  locality,  by  its  clear  buff  breast  and  the 
bright  yellow  on  the  edge  or  shoulder  of  the  wings.  It  has 
also  a  small  line  of  the  last  mentioned  color  from  the  base 
of  the  bill  over  the  eye.  On  the  whole,  it  is  a  very  light 
colored  Sparrow. 

The  fence  is  a  rather  high  perch  for  this  bird.  It  is  gen- 
erally seen  on  the  ground  or  swinging  on  a  spear  of  grass. 
From  some  such  lowly  position  it  utters  its  humble  song, 
which  is  a  faint  but  prolonged  squeak,  so  much  resembling 
the  shrilling  of  certain  grasshoppers  that  an  ordinary  ear 
would  scarcely  detect  the  difference.  On  listening  closely, 
however,  and  having  identified  the  song,  one  will  discover 
that  it  is  generally  preluded  and  ended  with  a  faint  war- 
ble. Unpretending  as  this  song  is,  the  singer  is  neverthe- 
less ambitious;  for  on  hearing  another  of  its  species  perform- 
ing near  by,  it  will  fly  toward  it,  and,  diving  into  the  grass, 
soon  put  it  to  silence. 

The  nest,  which  is  on  the  ground,  is  built  of  dried  grasses 
and  lined  with  hair,  and  resembles  those  of  the  Ground- 
building  Sparrows  in  general.  The  five  eggs,  some  .76X-60 
—  large  for  the  size  of  the  bird  —  are  pure  white,  specked 
and  spotted  with  reddish-brown,  mostly  about  the  large 
end.  They  are  laid  early  in  June,  the  bird  arriving  in  May. 
It  probably  leaves  in  September  for  the  south.  As  a 
resident  of  Eastern  North  America,  it  is  a  southerly  species, 
going  scarcely  beyond  the  United  States;  indeed,  becoming 
rare  already  in  the  Northern  States,  while  it  is  abundant  to 
the  south.  Its  food  is  that  of  its  kind  in  general  —  insects 
and  seeds. 

Henslow's  Sparrow  (Coturniculus  henslowt)  is  a  closely 
allied  species.  "  Resembling  the  last;  smaller;  more  yellow- 
ish above,  and  with  sharp  maxillary,  pectoral  and  lateral 
black  streaks  below;  tail  longer,  reaching  beyond  the  feet; 


THE  AMERICAN  SWAN.  295 

bill    stout."     (Coues).     Habitat:    Eastern    United    States; 
local,  not  common. 

On  a  bright  morning,  on  the  8th  of  May,  I  am  on  the 
shore  of  Lake  Ontario,  at  the  mouth  of  Johnson's  Creek. 
The  warm  spring  sun  causes  a  soft  white  mist  to  rise  from 
the  whole  surface  of  the  lake,  giving  this  grand  sheet  of 
water  a  most  magnificent  appearance  —  like  that  of  bur- 
nished silver.  From  some  distance  out  I  can  hear  the 
clangor  of  the  voices  of  immense  numbers  of  Loons,  or 
Great  Northern  Divers.  The  air  is  very  salubrious,  and 
being  in  good  health,  I  am  conscious  of  an  unutterable  joy 
in  the  contemplation  of  nature.  Every  breath  is  a  soul- 
stimulus,  and  physical  existence  is  blissful.  But  in  such 
moments  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  between  that  conscious- 
ness which  is  of  the  soul,  and  that  which  is  of  the  body,  so 
intimately  do  these  two  sources  of  the  individual  sense  mix 
and  blend  together;  and  even  the  material  forms  around  us 
have  a  spiritual  ideal  with  which  the  mind  may  hold  com- 
munion. 

THE    AMERICAN    SWAN. 

In  the  midst  of  my  reverie  my  attention  is  arrested  by 
the  remains  of  a  Swan  (Cygnus  americanus] ,  which  have  floated 
upon  the  shore.  Tufts  of  the  fine  plumage  are  still  adher- 
ing, while  many  parts  of  the  skeleton  are  entirely  denuded 
by  the  effects  of  time  and  water.  I  pluck  a  handful  of  the 
snowy  feathers  from  the  disfigured  form  of  this  wonderful 
bird,  which,  by  some  means  unknown,  has  perished  in  the 
course  of  its  long  migration.  As  I  examine  them  I  am  re- 
minded how  all  warm-blooded  animals  require  some  cover- 
ing for  the  retention  of  animal  heat.  The  ordinary  mam- 
mal has  a  coat  of  hair,  suited  to  climate,  season,  and  the 
peculiar  conditions  of  its  habitat.  The  human  race  may 


296  THE  AMERICAN  SWAN. 

choose  its  own  clothing  according  to  location  and  circum- 
stances. Birds  are  clad  with  feathers,  an  integument 
altogether  peculiar  to  them  as  a  class.  Concerning  these 
feathers,  constituting  what  we  call  plumage,  Paley,  in  his 
great  work  on  Natural  Theology,  has  well  said:  "The 
covering  of  birds  cannot  escape  the  most  vulgar  observa- 
tion. Its  lightness,  its  smoothness,  its  warmth — the  dis- 
position of  the  feathers,  all  inclined  backward,  the 
down  about  their  stem,  the  overlapping  of  their  tips, 
their  different  configuration  in  different  parts,  not  to 
mention  the  variety  of  their  colors,  constitute  a  vest- 
ment for  the  body,  so  beautiful,  and  so  appropriate  to 
the  life  which  the  animal  is  to  lead,  that,  I  think,  we 
should  have  had  no  conception  of  anything  equally  perfect, 
if  we  had  never  seen  it,  or  can  now  imagine  anything  more 
so."  Feathers  are  varied  in  adaptation  to  the  different 
parts  of  the  bird.  There  are  the  ordinary  feathers  for  cov- 
ering called  " clothing  feathers,"  then  others  particularly 
modified  for  special  uses — those  over  the  opening  of  the 
ear  are  very  light  and  open,  and  are  called  "auriculars;" 
those  covering  the  junction  of  the  wing  with  the  body  are 
called  "scapulars;"  those  lying  in  several  rows  at  the  base 
of  the  quills  on  the  outside  of  the  wing,  "coverts;"  the 
large  quill-feathers  of  the  wing  are  called  " remiges"  or 
"rowing  feathers;"  of  these  again,  the  larger  ones,  arising 
from  the  hand  bones,  are  called  "primaries;"  those  on  the 
lower  or  distal  end  of  the  ulna,  or  arm-bone,  "secondaries;" 
those  from  the  upper  or  proximal  part  of  the  same  bone, 
"  tertiaries,"  while  the  large  steering-feathers  of  the  tail  are 
called  "rectrices."  Indeed,  on  every  part  of  the  body 
the  feathers  are  peculiarly  modified  according  to  their 
location,  and  yet  every  feather  is  constructed  essentially 
on  the  same  plan.  There  is,  first,  the  quill,  entering 


THE  AMERICAN  SWAN.  297 

the  skin,  and  supporting  the  main  part.  It  is  of  a 
tough,  horny  material,  and  cylindrical  in  form,  thus 
combining  strength  and  lightness;  for  in  no  form  is  a  given 
amount  of  matter  so  strong  to  support  a  weight  or  a  strain 
as  in  that  of  a  tube  or  cylinder;  and,  of  course,  that  is 
also  the  form  most  favorable  to  levity.  Next  comes  the 
shaft  supporting  the  vanes.  This  is  somewhat  four-sided,  to 
accommodate  the  vanes,  and  gradually  diminishes  toward 
the  extremity.  It  is  usually  bent,  thus  rendering  the  feather 
much  stronger  and  more  convenient  for  its  ordinary  uses; 
and  it  is  also  made  more  firm  by  a  light  pith.  The  flat 
barbs,  constituting  the  vane,  join  each  other  at  their  broad 
sides,  thus  striking  the  air  edgewise,  and  so  opposing  the 
utmost  resistance,  just  as  a  plank  will  sustain  a  greater 
weight  when  set  on  edge  than  when  lying  flat.  These  barbs 
are  also  broadest  where  they  join  the  shaft,  and  taper  to  a 
point  at  the  outer  edge  of  the  vane.  The  broad  sides  of 
these  barbs  are  supplied  with  barbules,  little  hooks,  so 
arranged  as  to  hook  or  latch  into  each  other,  and  so  form 
the  barbs  of  the  vane  into  a  continuous  and  firm  sheet.  At 
the  base  of  the  vane  is  generally  more  or  less  down,  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  of  the  bird,  certain  swimming  birds, 
such  as  Ducks  and  Geese,  being  noted  for  their  down. 
Some  of  the  feathers  of  such  species  are  down  throughout, 
and  are  called  down-feathers;  while  all  birds  have  more  or 
less  feathers  simply  in  the  form  of  hairs.  These  last  are 
particularly  troublesome  in  dressing  the  common  fowl,  and 
are  most  conveniently  cleaned  by  singeing.  Again,  the  feath- 
ers of  certain  birds  have  a  peculiar  style  of  structure.  Those 
of  the  Grebe  are  very  open  and  loose,  and  of  a  glossy  finish, 
giving  them  somewhat  the  appearance  of  an  elegant  kind 
of  fur.  "In  the  Owls  the  plumage  is  loose  and  soft;  fila- 
ments from  the  barbules  extend  upon  the  outer  surface  of 


298  THE  AMERICAN  SWAN. 

the  vane,  and  one  edge  of  the  primaries  is  serrated;  so  that, 
while  they  are  debarred  from  so  swift  a  flight  as  the  Hawk, 
they  are  enabled,  by  the  same  mechanism,  to  wing  their 
way  without  noise,  and  steal  unheard  upon  their  prey." 
(Owen.)  In  the  long  pinions  of  the  Hawk  the  vanes  are 
joined  together  with  a  remarkable  firmness.  Who  can  ex- 
plain the  peculiarity  of  that  structure,  which  causes  the  in- 
imitable lustre  on  certain  parts  of  several  kinds  of  birds  ? 
Thus,  as  the  above  named  author  says,  "  every  feather  is  a 
mechanical  wonder."  No  less  remarkable  is  its  history  from 
its  first  appearance  in  the  matrix  till  it  reaches  maturity. 
So  perplexing  is  each  stage  of  its  development,  that  to  read 
an  account  of  it  by  the  most  lucid  anatomist  requires  as 
close  attention  as  the  solution  of  an  intricate  problem  in 
mathematics.  And  can  anything  exceed  the  varied  beauty 
and  brilliancy  of  the  plumage  of  certain  members  of  the 
feathered  tribes?  What  is  there  in  all  the  bright  hues  of 
nature  which  can  equal  the  metallic  tints  on  certain  parts 
of  the  Humming  Birds  of  the  New  World,  or  of  the  Sun 
Birds  of  both  the  Old  World  and  the  New? 

The  partly  denuded  skeleton  of  this  Swan  also  reminds 
me  of  the  peculiar  and  varied  osteology  of  the  birds.  A 
bird's  skeleton  is  a  true  indication  of  the  leading  peculiari- 
ties of  its  structure  and  functions  in  this  class  of  vertebrates. 
As  the  bird's  position,  whether  on  the  ground,  on  the  water, 
or  in  the  air,  is  nearly  horizontal,  the  trunk  of  the  body  is 
made  firm  by  a  consolidation  of  a  great  portion  of  the  back- 
bone and  ribs  into  a  continued  bony  plane,  and  by  the 
anchylosis,  or  joining  together,  of  nearly  all  the  dorsal  ver- 
tebrae; and  then  it  is  well  supported  by  the  thigh  bones 
being  in  a  horizontal  position,  and  thus  balancing  it;  and  by 
the  long  toes  radiating  in  various  directions.  As  the  bird's 
neck  must  serve  the  purpose  of  an  arm,  and  the  bill  that  of 


THE  AMERICAN  SWAN.  299 

a  hand,  the  former  is  very  long,  and  flexible  in  various  direc- 
tions, reaching  its  greatest  length  in  the  Cygnus,  or  Swan 
genus,  and  the  latter  is  variously  and  most  skillfully  mod- 
eled according  to  the  habit  of  the  bird,  but  always  having 
cutting  edges  of  a  horny  substance.  Flight,  as  the  principal 
characteristic  of  the  class,  is  well  anticipated  by  the  great 
extent  and  peculiar  form  of  the  breast-bone  or  sternum,  to 
which  so  many  of  the  muscles  of  flight  are  attached,  which 
has  its  surface  augmented  by  a  broad  keel,  and  of  which  the 
ossification  is  more  or  less  complete,  according  to  the  pow- 
ers of  flight  possessed  by  the  bird.  Notwithstanding  the 
great  pressure  of  the  wings  of  the  flying  bird  upon  the 
shoulders,  these  last  are  kept  a  proper  distance  apart  by  a 
system  of  bones  formed  into  a  sort  of  double  arch,  well 
braced  forward  and  backward.  The  ribs  again  are  remark- 
ably strengthened  by  a  line  of  flat,  bony  processes,  extend- 
ing from  one  to  the  other,  like  purlines  joined  into  the  raft- 
ers of  a  building.  All  the  bones  are  especially  laminated 
and  firm,  and  at  the  same  time  contain,  for  the  most  part, 
air  cavities,  to  secure  their  greater  levity. 

Nor  is  the  muscular  system  any  less  remarkable  in  its 
adaptation  to  the  peculiar  functions  of  the  bird;  some  of  the 
muscles,  extending  from  the  trunk  of  the  body  to  the  tips 
of  the  toes,  being  so  arranged  that  the  bird  clings  to  its 
perch  without  any  voluntary  effort  during  its  unconscious 
hours  of  sleep,  and  may  thus  support  itself  even  on  one 
foot.  "  In  birds  of  flight  the  mechanical  disposition  of  the 
muscular  system  is  admirably  adapted  to  the  aerial  locomo- 
tion of  this  class;  the  principal  masses  being  collected  below 
the  center  of  gravity,  beneath  the  sternum,  beneath  the  pelvis, 
and  upon  the  thighs,  they  act  like  the  ballast  of  a  vessel,  and 
assist  in  maintaining  the  steadiness  of  the  body  during 
flight;  while  at  the  same  time  the  extremities  require  only 


300  THE  AMERICAN  SWAN. 

long,  thin  tendons  for  the  communication  of  the  mus- 
cular influence  to  them,  and  are  thereby  rendered  light  and 
slender."  (Owen.)  Is  there  anything  in  all  this  arrange- 
ment of  bone  and  muscle  which  indicates  intelligent  design  ? 
Is  there  any  thought  back  of  it  all  ?  Or  is  it  simply  the 
result  of  blind  forces  residing  in  matter  ? 

Over  the  wide  world  the  Swan  is  the  most  graceful  and 
majestic  bird  of  the  waters.  Strongly  resembling  the  Goose, 
it  is  differentiated  by  its  greater  elegance,  which  comes  in 
part  from  its  long,  slender  and  graceful  neck,  and  in  part 
from  its  large  and  elaborate  wings,  as  well  as  from  its  more 
dignified  proportions  and  bearing  in  general.  Its  bill  is 
noticeably  larger  than  that  of  the  Goose,  in  proportion  to  its 
head,  and  the  base  of  it  extends  to  the  eye.  The  fabled 
song  of  the  Swan  as  death  approaches,  though  decidedly 
beautiful,  has  no  foundation  in  fact.  While  it  has  some 
very  boisterous  notes,  and  a  peculiar  folding  of  the  wind- 
pipe and  connection  of  it  with  the  breast-bone  and  merry 
thought,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  these  stentorious 
effects,  its  ordinary  reticence,  so  strongly  contrasting  with 
the  "noisy  gabbling  of  Geese  and  Duck,"  adds  greatly  to 
its  wonted  dignity.  Indeed,  the  structure  of  its  vocal  organs 
is  in  no  wise  favorable  to  any  musical  capacity. 

To  see  this  pure,  snow-white  creature  in  all  the  ease, 
elegance  and  dignity  of  his  wild  and  retired  haunts  is  the 
privilege  of  but  few;  but  he  may  be  seen  domesticated,  and 
thus  seeming  perfectly  at  home  on  the  glassy  ponds  of  our 
public  or  even  private  parks.  His  great  wings,  so  gracefully 
ruffled  and  partly  elevated,  make  him  look  almost  ethereal 
as  he  floats  along  with  the  slow  and  easy  strokes  of  his 
large,  black  feet,  and  they  also  serve  as  a  sort  of  sail  to  catch 
the  passing  breeze.  Frequently  one  foot  is  held  up  out  of 
the  water  and  spread  apart,  as  if  it,  too,  were  used  to  catch 


THE   AMERICAN  SWAN.  30I 

the  wind.  What  can  equal  the  gracefulness  of  that  long 
slender,  curving  neck,  as  the  head  moves  slowly  in  every 
conceivable  direction!  Every  movement  of  a  Swan  is  par- 
ticularly slow  and  stately.  It  is  a  living  miniature  of  a  ship. 
But  that  peculiar  motion  with  which,  having  dipped  his 
head  in  the  water,  he  throws  a  shower  of  large  drops,  like 
so  many  pearls,  over  his  ruffled  and  snow-white  plumage, 
affords  the  supreme  moment  when  his  beauty  culminates. 
Such  scenes  give  one  a  conception  of  the  sweet  content  God 
has  designed  for  all  His  creatures  in  the  mere  conscious- 
ness of  existence.  Those  poets  sing  best  of  human  life 
who,  passing  by  its  feverish  excitements  and  undue  ambi- 
tions, find  a  chief  good  in  the  quiet,  virtuous  and  sweet 
sense  of  simple  being.  That  was  a  true  philosopher  who 
prized  the  comfort  of  sunshine  above  the  highest  gifts  of 
kings. 

We  have  two  species  of  Swan  on  this  continent — the 
Whistling  or  American  Swan,  and  the  Trumpeter.  The 
former  (Cygnus  americanus),  some  53  inches  long  and  about  84 
in  extent  of  wings,  is  occasionally  seen  in  flocks  passing 
over  our  Great  Lakes,  or  along  the  Niagara  River,  in  their 
times  of  migration.  On  St.  Clair  Flats  they  are  sometimes 
seen  in  great  numbers.  They  fly  high  and  in  lines  and  an- 
gles, after  the  manner  of  Wild  Geese,  except  that  they  are 
generally  silent,  and  have  a  shorter  and  more  graceful  stroke 
of  the  wings.  Very  inspiring  to  the  love  of  the  beautiful 
are  their  large  snow-white  forms,  with  outstretched  neck  and 
black  bill,  as  they  glide  along  the  clear  ether  of  a  bright 
morning  in  early  spring  or  late  autumn,  their  lines,  curves, 
and  angles  being  formed  with  mathematical  precision. 
Many  of  them  spend  the  winter  on  the  Chesapeake  and  Del- 
aware rivers,  where  they  are  captured  in  large  numbers  for  the 
market.  It  is  also  said  to  be  abundant  along  the  Pacific 


302  THE  LOON. 

Coast  in  winter.  In  New  England  it  is  rare,  and  it  is  not 
abundant  in  the  region  of  the  Mississippi.  The  arctic  regions 
are  its  breeding  ground.  It  breeds  commonly  in  the  marshes 
along  the  Yukon  River,  especially  in  the  great  marshes  at 
its  mouth.  The  eggs,  from  2-5,  "nearly  ellipsoidal,"  some 
4.00  X  2.00,  with  a  rather  rough  shell,  are  white  or  dirty- 
white,  and  are  laid  in  May,  "  usually  in  a  tussock  quite  sur- 
rounded with  water." 

The  Trumpeter  Swan  (Cygnus  buccinator}  differs  from  the 
former  in  its  greater  size,  being  some  68  inches  in  length, 
by  its  longer  and  wholly  black  bill,  and  more  basilar  nostrils, 
by  its  24  tail  feathers  (C.  americanus  has  a  yellow  spot  on  the 
bill  and  only  20  tail  feathers),  and  by  its  harsher  voice. 
Reaching  the  gulf  coast  in  winter,  the  Trumpeter  seems  to 
range  along  the  great  Mississippi  Valley,  breeding  from 
Iowa  and  Dakota  to  the  arctics,  its  breeding  habits  being 
similar  to  those  of  its  American  congener.  It  is  but  a 
straggler  on  the  Atlantic  Coast,  and  is  not  numerous  south- 
ward on  the  Pacific. 

The  young  of  Swans  are  at  first  gray,  and  passing  through 
various  shades  of  reddish  do  not  become  pure  white  until 
about  5  or  6  years  old;  and  it  takes  about  as  many  years  for 
them  to  reach  their  full  size,  the  young  scarcely  exceeding 
one-third  of  that  of  the  mature  bird  at  the  end  of  the  first 
year. 

Australia  has  a  Black  Swan,  and  South  America  one  with 
a  black  head  and  neck. 

THE  LOON. 

About  the  middle  of  the  day,  when  the  mist  on  the  lake 
has  somewhat  cleared  away,  I  discern  some  half-dozen 
dark  spots,  several  miles  out;  and  turning  the  glass  upon 
them,  I  discover  them  to  be  Loons,  or  Great  Northern 


THE  LOON.  303 

Divers  (Colymbus  torquatus).  How  finely  they  swim,  stretch- 
ing their  large,  black  feet  out  behind  them,  even  above  the 
water,  sometimes,  the  wavelets  stirring  at  their  sides  and  in 
their  wake,  being  a  miniature  of  those  formed  by  a  sailing 
craft.  Now  they  are  moving  in  line,  one  after  the  other; 
and  again  the  line  is  broken  by  the  sudden  diving  of  one 
or  more;  or  for  a  time  they  all  disappear  in  the  same  man- 
ner. Then  rising  again,  one  after  another,  they  shake  their 
heads  and  look  about  them  in  every  direction,  as  if  keep- 
ing up  the  utmost  vigilance;  or  one  flaps  his  wings,  and 
thus  rising  out  of  the  water,  and  patting  it  with  his  feet  as 
if  running  on  its  surface  for  some  distance,  drops  into  it 
again,  cutting  the  glassy  surface  into  a  foam  with  his  snowy 
breast.  If  one  would  study  birds  without  disturbing  them, 
and  know  how  they  behave  when  they  are  perfectly  at  home, 
one  must  view  them  thus  in  the  distance,  with  the  aid  of  a 
good  glass.  The  first  impulse  on  a  sight  like  this  is  to  board 
one's  boat  and  row  toward  the  flock  for  a  shot;  but  that 
would  be  about  useless  in  the  case  of  the  Loon,  for  he  dives 
at  the  flash  of  the  gun  ere  shot  or  bullet  can  reach  him. 
To  shoot  a  Loon  is  possible,  but  it  is  one  of  the  rarest  feats 
in  marksmanship.  The  name — Great  Northern  Diver — is 
most  appropriate  to  him. 

The  summer  haunts  of  this  bird  are  in  the  north, 
where,  on  lakes  and  streams,  his  large,  flat  body,  his 
long,  slender-pointed  black  bill,  his  large  head  and  long, 
thick  neck  of  jet-black,  with  hues  of  violet  and  green 
and  patches  streaked  with  white,  his  jet-black  upper 
parts  elegantly  spotted  with  white,  and  his  snow-white 
breast — are  among  the  most  familiar  objects.  Of  his  great 
expertness  in  diving  and  swimming,  for  which  his  peculiar 
structure — especially  the  posterior  position  of  his  great 
webbed  feet  and  his  sharply  compressed  legs — so  well 


304  THE  LOON. 

adapts  him,  he  seems  well  aware;  for  he  is  in  no  hurry  to 
fly  as  one  approaches  him  on  the  water.  Excepting  the 
Grebe,  no  bird  of  our  waters  will  allow  one  to  come  so  near 
to  him.  Plunging  out  of  sight  in  an  instant,  if  one  presses 
him  too  closely,  and  literally  flying  under  the  water,  he  will 
presently  come  up  and  shake  the  water  out  of  his  eyes 
many  rods  distant,  swimming  so  deeply  that  his  back  is 
nearly  under  water;  and,  before  one  can  get  within  gun- 
shot, he  plunges  out  of  sight  again.  If  he  undertakes  to 
rise  out  of  the  water,  it  seems  to  be  with  some  difficulty. 
Striking  the  air  vigorously  with  his  powerful  wings,  and 
patting  the  water  with  his  feet,  he  appears  half-running 
and  half-flying,  for  several  rods,  before  mounting  fully  into 
the  air,  and  if  the  wind  be  blowing  he  rises  against  it,  thus 
" eking  out  the  resisting  power  of  his  small  wings;"  but 
once  elevated,  he  moves  with  immense  momentum  and 
velocity,  with  outstretched  neck,  and  feet  extended  back- 
ward, after  the  manner  of  a  huge  Duck.  To  make  up  for 
the  small  area  of  his  wing-surface,  he  beats  the  air  with  a 
rapidity  that  cannot  be  counted;  and  like  other  swimming 
birds  with  very  small  wings  for  their  size,  and  like  all  diving 
birds  whose  wings  are  always  reduced  to  a  minimum,  he 
can  make  no  sudden  turns,  nor  perform  any  aerial  evolu- 
tions, nor  alight  suddenly  and  gracefully,  but  pitches  into 
the  water  with  a  splash  and  foam.  Nor  does  he  generally 
need  any  of  these  facilities  on  wing.  He  may  choose  broad 
rivers,  immense  lakes,  or  even  the  ocean  for  his  highway, 
and  so  have  no  obstructions  in  his  course.  Moreover,  like 
other  mortals,  he  cannot  expect  to  have  every  advantage. 
If  in  structure  and  function  he  is  the  very  ideal  of  dex- 
terity in  the  water,  he  cannot  expect  to  vie  with  the  Swift  in 
the  regions  of  the  air. 

The  name  Loon,  or  Loom,  is  said  to  be  of  Lapland  ori- 


THE  LOON.  305 

gin,  and  to  have  come  from  a  word  signifying  lame,  because 
the  bird  is  unable  to  walk  regularly.  One  caught  in  a  seine, 
and  brought  to  me  in  excellent  condition,  without  any 
injury  whatever,  was  wholly  unable  to  rise  from  the  ground, 
and  could  barely  shuffle  along  a  few  feet,  aiding  itself  with 
the  shoulders  of  its  wings.  Its  position  in  standing  is 
nearly  upright,  after  the  manner  of  the  Grebes;  otherwise 
it  cannot  maintain  the  center  of  gravity  on  account  of  the 
posterior  location  of  its  legs.  If  perchance  the  Loon 
alights  on  land,  away  from  the  water,  it  cannot  rise  again. 
Every  now  and  then  during  their  migrations,  one  is  found  in 
this  situation,  and  may  then  be  picked  up  and  carried  off 
without  any  difficulty  whatever. 

As  one  might  expect  under  these  circumstances,  the  Loon's 
nest,  which  is  a  rude  structure  of  rushes,  is  hard  by  the 
water,  on  an  island,  or  on  the  shore  of  the  main  land,  gen- 
erally on  the  edge  of  a  little  island  in  a  lake.  The  eggs,  2  or 
3,  some  3.25  x  2.15,  long  and  pointed,  are  brown  or  greenish- 
brown,  sparsely  spotted  all  over  with  dark  brown. 

The  Loon  breeds  on  St.  Clair  Flats  in  considerable  num- 
bers, the  nest  being  built  up  from  the  bottom,  of  rushes  and 
sedges,  extending  some  eight  or  ten  inches  above  the  sur- 
face, and  containing  a  dry  depression  to  receive  the  eggs. 
Very  possibly  these  nests  are  all  deserted  muskrat-houses. 
I  could  not  fully  determine. 

The  notes  of  this  bird,  being  most  frequent  before  a  storm, 
are  remarkable.  Beginning  on  the  fifth  note  of  the  scale, 
the  voice  slides  through  the  eighth  to  the  third  of  the  scale 
above,  in  loud,  clear,  sonorous  tones,  which,  on  a  dismal 
evening  before  a  thunder  storm,  the  lightning  already  playing 
along  the  inky  sky,  are  anything  but  musical.  He  has  also 
another  rather  soft  and  pleasing  utterance,  sounding  like 
who-who-who-who,  the  syllables  being  so  rapidly  pronounced 
20 


306  THE  LOON. 

as  to  sound  almost  like  a  shake  of  the  voice — a  sort  of  weird 
laughter. 

Though  generally  dispersed  over  the  United  States  in 
winter,  the  Great  Northern  Diver  breeds,  for  the  most  part, 
beyond  our  limits,  except  in  mountainous  regions,  rearing 
their  precocious  young,  even  up  to  70°. 

The  length  of  this  species  is  2^-3  feet.  Its  food  is  mostly 
small  fishes. 

The  Red-throated  Diver  (Colymbus  septentrionalis),  with 
habits  and  habitat  similar  to  the  former,  is  much  smaller, 
26  inches  long  and  43  in  extent  of  wing;  and  it  differs  no- 
ticeably in  color.  It  is  "blackish;  below,  white,  dark 
along  the  sides  and  on  the  vent  and  crissum;  most  of  the 
head  and  fore-neck,  bluish-gray,  the  throat  with  a  large 
chestnut  patch,  hind  neck  sharply  streaked  with  white  on  a 
blackish  ground;  bill  black.  The  young  have  not  these 
marks  on  the  head  and  neck,  but  a  profusion  of  small,  sharp, 
circular  or  oval  white  spots  on  the  back." 

This  species  is  said  to  be  abundant  on  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 
Another  species  called  the  Black-throated  Diver  is  found  to 
the  northwest  of  our  continent. 

These  Loons  are  also  the  Loons  of  the  Old  World,  the 
birds  having  a  circumpolar  distribution.  They  are  closely 
allied  to  the  Grebes,  differing  from  them,  as  to  structure, 
principally  in  their  completely  webbed  feet. 

The  peculiarities  of  the  skeleton  of  a  Loon,  including  the 
greatly  prolonged  breast-bone,  the  long,  narrow  pelvic  bone 
with  its  elevated  ridge,  to  receive  the  great  muscles  of  the 
leg  used  in  swimming,  and  the  greatly  prolonged  process  at 
the  knee-joint,  to  strengthen  the  leg  as  the  bird  kicks  up  to- 
ward the  surface  of  the  water  in  the  act  of  diving,  deserve 
the  special  attention  of  the  ornithologist  and  anatomist. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 
THE  TENTH  AND  ELEVENTH  OF  MAY. 

I  AM  in  the  forest  on  a  beautiful  morning,  the  10th  of 
May;  and  never  in  the  round  year  are  the  charms  of 
our  woodland  scenery  greater  than  at  this  very  hour.  The 
leaves  are  already  well  unfolded,  for  the  spring  is  early;  and 
the  many  wild  flowers,  peculiar  to  the  time  of  year  in  this 
locality,  are  in  full  bloom.  Liverworts,  spring-beauties  and 
marsh-marigolds  are  past  their  prime,  indeed;  but  the 
cresses,  the  toothworts,  the  fumitories,  the  addertongues, 
the  violets,  and  above  all  the  trillium,  are  now  in  the  very 
height  of  their  glory;  while  the  mitreworts  and  the  many 
varieties  of  Solomon's-seal  are  just  beginning  to  display 
their  delicate  beauties.  The  whole  woods  is  one  immense 
flower-garden.  Oh,  the  fragrance  of  this  delightful  morn- 
ing air!  Involuntarily  one  takes  long,  deep  breaths,  as  if 
the  very  act  of  respiration  were  a  luxury. 

THE    WOOD    THRUSH. 

But  most  delightful  of  all,  as  the  sun  leaps  above  the 
horizon,  is  the  mingled  chorus  of  the  birds.  The  Wood 
Thrush  (Turdus  mustelinus)  arrived  some  time  during  the 
night,  and  is  giving  us  his  first  song.  To  me  it  is  an  event 
of  the  season.  Nothing  in  all  our  bird  melody  equals  it! 
Such  is  its  sweetness  and  copious  variety  that  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  render  it  in  syllables.  It  must  suffice  to  say  that 


308  THE    WOOD    THRUSH. 

the  tones  are  flute-like,  if  indeed  they  can  be  compared  to 
any  instrument;  a  variety  of  brief  tinkles,  trills,  triplets  and 
warbles,  on  main  chords,  intermediates  and  chromatics,  fol- 
lowing each  other  in  close  but  rather  slow  succession,  in 
every  possible  key,  cadence  and  inflection,  with  a  peculiar 
shake  on  a  low  key  every  now  and  then  thrown  in;  the  whole 
suggesting  the  idea  of  a  solemn  but  happy  and  tender  train  of 
meditation;  the  bird  sings  as  if  in  a  delightful  reverie. 
From  the  time  of  his  arrival  till  late  in  June,  or  even  in 
July,  his  peculiar  melody  may  be  heard  at  almost  any  time 
of  day,  but  especially  early  in  the  morning  and  late  in  the 
evening.  Never  shall  I  forget  how,  once  at  the  dawn  of 
day,  as  I  lay  in  my  hammock  high  up  under  the  thick  shade 
of  two  great  forest  trees,  the  notes  of  the  Wood  Thrush 
were  the  first  to  break  the  stillness  of  the  receding  night. 
Faintly,  but  oh!  how  sweetly,  they  broke  upon  the  air  in  the 
tree-top  just  above  me.  Louder  and  louder  were  the  liquid 
strains,  until  the  silent  isles  of  the  thick  forest  echoed  to 
their  delightful  cadences,  and  all  the  songsters  in  the  vicinity 
woke  up  and  gave  forth  their  united  response.  Nothing 
is  more  characteristic  of  our  beautiful  forests,  at  the  close  of 
day,  than  the  melody  of  this  great  woodland  artist  —  this 
Beethoven  among  birds. 

Not  peculiar  to  the  streams  and  wet  places  merely,  as 
implied  by  both  Wilson  and  Audubon,  but  exceedingly 
common  as  a  summer  resident  throughout  the  woods,  the 
Wood  Thrush  builds  his  nest  in  this  locality  late  in  May  or 
early  in  June,  in  the  crotch  of  a  sappling,  or  on  the  horizon- 
tal limb  of  a  large  tree,  anywhere  from  7  to  15  feet  from  the 
ground.  The  structure,  strongly  resembling  that  of  the 
Robin,  consists  outwardly  of  dried  leaves,  coarse  weed- 
stalks,  grasses,  rootlets,  etc.,  plastered  together  with  mud, 
and  lined  with  rootlets  for  the  most  part,  the  lining  often 


WILSON'S   THRUSH.  309 

being  quite  scanty.  The  eggs,  3  or  4,  some  1.00  X  -V5,  in 
form  and  color  are  like  those  of  the  Robin. 

When  the  nest  of  this  species  is  disturbed  or  even 
approached,  it  has  an  animated  twitter,  almost  as  character- 
istic as  its  song,  also  a  soft  chuck.  I  do  not  find  this  bird 
particularly  shy,  as  compared  with  other  birds  of  the  woods. 

Like  other  Thrushes,  it  is  often  on  the  ground,  not  infre- 
quently utters  its  song  from  a  log  or  stump,  and  seldom 
alights  above  the  lower  story  of  the  woods.  Berries  and 
insects  constitute  its  fare.  Its  flight  is  regular,  and  not  very 
rapid. 

About  8  inches  long,  the  upper  parts  are  bright  brown, 
reddish  on  the  head,  dusky  on  the  rump  and  tail,  eye-lids 
white,  ear-patches  dark  brown  and  white  striped,  under- 
parts  white,  breast  creamy,  the  dark-brown  arrow-shaped 
spots  being  quite  large  and  running  in  chains.  The  males 
and  females  are  alike,  after  the  manner  of  the  Thrushes. 

Migrating  to  New  England  early  in  May,  very  rare  in 
southwestern  Maine,  it  extends  further  north  into  Canada 
West.  I  found  it  common  about  Manitoulin  Island,  and 
heard  its  song  in  the  Lacloche  Mountains.  Early  in  autumn 
it  leaves  us  for  its  winter  home  in  Central  America.  Audu- 
bon  reported  a  few  on  the  gulf  coast  in  winter,  but  Mr. 
Maynard  did  not  find  it  in  Florida. 

WILSON'S  THRUSH. 

From  a  thicket  of  undergrowth  near  by  there  comes  a 
loud  querulous  note,  which  may  be  spelled  as  chree-u.  I  rec- 
ognize it  at  once  as  the  alarm  note  of  Wilson's  Thrush 
(Turdus  fuscescen$)y  a  very  common  summer  resident  of  this 
locality,  arriving  early  in  May  and  leaving  early  in  September. 
There,  he  has  alighted  on  a  large  stump  within  two  rods  of 
me,  and  in  full  view.  Some  7.00  long,  or  more,  he  is  rather 


310  WILSON'S   THRUSH. 

slender,  reddish-brown  above,  pure  white  underneath,  the 
throat  and  upper  breast  dark  cream,  streaked  with  small, 
obscure,  arrow-shaped  brown  spots.  His  general  lightness 
of  color,  especially  his  obscure  spots  on  the  breast,  always 
differentiates  him  from  all  other  Thrushes.  About  the  last  of 
May  or  early  in  June,  when  nidification  begins,  he  becomes 
a  most  delightful  songster.  Then,  if  you  would  hear  him 
to  the  best  advantage,  go  to  some  low  ground  or  swamp — 
localities  in  which  these  birds  are  most  numerous — between 
sunset  and  dark,  when  sky  and  clouds  put  on  their  most  gor- 
geous hues,  and  all  nature  is  sinking  into  silence.  The  mere 
notes  of  the  song  are  very  simple,  and,  to  my  ear,  sound  some- 
thing like  the  syllables,  whree-u,  whree-u,  whree-u,  whree-u, 
uttered  in  a  somewhat  slow  and  strictly  formal  manner,  and 
often  so  softly  that  you  imagine  the  bird,  which  is  close  by, 
to  be  quite  a  distance  off;  but  the  tones  may  have  a  marvelous 
vibration,  sweet,  pathetic,  and  grand  beyond  comparison,  as 
"  the  sounding  isles  of  the  dim  woods  "  return  the  softened 
echoes.  The  tones,  taken  singly,  I  think  are  the  sweetest  I 
ever  heard,  and  can  be  compared  to  nothing  else  which  ever 
falls  upon  the  ear.  Each  tone  is  one  of  many  keys,  all  in 
sweet  attune,  a  chord  of  many  different  musical  threads, 
vibrating  sweetly,  and  causing  the  atmosphere  to  respond 
as  if  it  were  itself  entranced. 

As  is  the  case  with  other  birds,  several  in  the  same 
vicinity,  will  answer  each  other,  one  delivering  his  strain  in 
a  little  higher  tone  than  another,  and  again  falling  a  little 
below  him,  the  effect  of  which  is  very  fine  to  a  musical  ear. 

Tranquility  is  the  very  essence  and  expression  of  this  de- 
lightful song.  No  sound  in  the  whole  domain  of  nature 
could  more  perfectly  compose  the  mind.  Pitch  your  tent 
where  this  bird  is,  and  let  him  put  you  to  sleep  at  night  and 
wake  you  up  in  the  morning. 


WILSON'S   THRUSH.  311 

This  species  is  often  called  the  "  Veery,"  probably  from 
some  fancied  resemblance  of  the  word  to  the  notes  of  his 
song.  That  resemblance  to  my  ear,  however,  is  the  slight- 
est possible.  The  name  is  simply  a  degrading  epithet. 

In  accordance  with  its  terrestrial  habits  in  general,  Tur- 
dus  fuscescens  builds  its  nest  on  or  near  the  ground,  often  on 
a  little  bunch  of  dried  brush  and  leaves,  or  on  the  side  of  a 
knoll,  generally  where  a  small  opening  in  the  tall  trees  lets 
in  the  genial  rays  of  the  sun.  It  is  rather  a  rude  structure, 
sometimes  frail,  sometimes  bulky,  the  foundation  being  of 
dried  and  skeleton  leaves  mixed  with  straw,  weed-stalks, 
sticks,  or  coarse  shreds  of  bark  from  the  wild  grape-vine; 
the  lining  being  of  skeleton  leaves  and  very  fine  rootlets, 
perhaps  a  few  pine-needles  or  dried  grasses.  The  structure 
is  quite  unique,  and  from  its  location  can  scarcely  be  mis- 
taken. The  eggs,  generally  4,  some  .80  x  .60,  are  light 
bluish-green,  and  decidedly  pretty. 

Though  generally  a  shy  and  sly  bird,  it  will  sometimes 
become  quite  confidential.  Strolling  through  the  woods 
some  time  ago  I  happened  on  a  nest  of  callow  young.  The 
mother  sat  closely.  Almost  within  arm's  reach  of  the 
nest,  I  watched  her  for  several  minutes,  she  looking  at  me 
also  with  an  indescribable  expression  in  her  large  brown 
eyes.  As  she  left  the  nest,  finally,  I  noticed  that,  being  six 
inches  or  so  from  the  ground,  and  rather  poorly  supported, 
it  was  very  much  tilted  on  one  side,  thus  endangering  the 
safety  of  the  young.  I  righted  it  up,  shoved  a  handful  of 
dried  leaves  under  it  to  make  it  firm,  and  passed  on.  A  few 
hours  later  I  returned,  happening  to  pass  the  very  same 
spot,  when  lo!  the  bird  had  become  so  tame,  and  looked  at 
me  seemingly  with  such  an  expression  of  gratitude  and 
confidence,  that  the  nearest  proximity  to  the  nest  did  not 
appear  to  disturb  her. 


312  THE   GOLDEN-CROWNED  ACCENTOR. 

Wintering  in  Florida  and  the  gulf  states,  Wilson's 
Thrush  breeds  from  Southern  New  England  and  the 
Middle  States  to  Hudson's  Bay,  and  westward  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  It  is  abundant  in  Western  New  York  in  sum- 
mer. I  did  not  find  it  common  in  Nova  Scotia. 

THE  GOLDEN-CROWNED    ACCENTOR. 

Ke-chee,  ke-chee,  ke-chee,  ke-chee,  ke-chee,  comes  the  familiar 
ditty  of  the  Golden-crowned  Accentor  (Seiurus  aurocapillus) 
for  the  first  time  in  the  year.  The  notes  begin  so  softly 
that  you  might  imagine  the  bird  to  be  some  distance  away, 
but  as  Jthey  continue  louder  and  louder,  the  last  one,  which 
is  quite  loud  and  shrill,  discovers  the  ventriloquist  to  be 
near  by.  Perched  on  a  lower  limb,  near  the  trunk  of  the 
tree,  he  sits  motionless  as  a  statue,  except  when  he  throws 
his  head  up  to  utter  his  notes.  Then  he  shakes  himself 
from  bill  to  tail,  and  by  the  time  he  reaches  the  last  note, 
seems  to  be  exercising  every  muscle. 

Occasionally  between  his  chants  he  steps  back  and  forth 
on  the  limb  and  jerks  his  tail  after  the  manner  of  his 
near  relative,  the  Water  Thrush.  The  general  effect  of  his 
performance  is  greatly  enhanced  by  the  echo  so  peculiar  to 
the  forest  when  in  full  foliage;  and  throughout  the  sum- 
mer it  is  one  of  the  characteristic  sounds  of  our  charming 
woodlands,  always  to  be  associated  with  their  coolness  and 
fragrance. 

Excepting  the  sharp  metallic  chip,  which  he  gives  as  he 
walks  in  his  pretty  lark-like  manner  on  the  ground  in  time 
of  nidification,  the  above  describes  what  was  formerly 
supposed  to  be  the  full  extent  of  his  musical  capacity;  but 
Mr.  Burroughs  discovered,  some  years  since,  that  he  has  a 
fine  warble.  He  says:  "Mounting  by  easy  flights  to  the 
top  of  the  tallest  tree,  he  launches  into  the  air  with  a  sort 


THE   GOLDEN-CROWNED  ACCENTOR.  313 

of  suspended,  hovering  flight,  like  certain  of  the  Finches, 
and  bursts  into  a  perfect  ecstasy  of  song — clear,  ringing, 
copious,  rivaling  the  Goldfinches  in  vivacity,  and  the  Lin- 
nets in  melody.  This  strain  is  one  of  the  rarest  bits  of 
bird  melody  to  be  heard,  and  is  oftenest  indulged  in  late  in 
the  afternoon  or  after  sundown."  Since  Mr.  B.'s  discovery 
others  have  identified  this  extra  song.  I  hear  it  to  fine 
advantage  in  the  night  when  the  bird  begins  with  its  ordi- 
nary and  well-known  chant,  and  ends  in  a  prolonged  and 
beautiful  warble,  the  effect  of  which,  on  the  stillness  of 
night  in  the  forest,  is  peculiarly  pleasing. 

Some  6.00-6.50  long,  greenish-olive  above,  with  a  yellow 
crown  margined  with  black,  white  underneath,  the  breast 
and  sides  streaked  with  large  arrow-shaped  spots  of  black, 
Golden-crown  has  the  marking  of  the  Thrushes,  among 
which  he  was  formerly  classed;  but  in  structure  he  is  a 
Warbler;  in  size  he  is  about  half-way  between  these  two 
great  families;  in  manner,  especially  when  on  the  ground, 
he  resembles  the  Wagtails.  He  is  a  bird  of  the  ground, 
often  busy  among  the  rustling  leaves  scratching  for  food, 
and  he  is  a  dainty  walker,  seldom  leaving  the  ground,  ex- 
cept for  some  musical  performance. 

In  accordance  with  this  general  habit,  his  nest,  found  in 
almost  any  part  of  the  woods  or  swamp,  is  on  the  ground  — 
a  peculiar  structure,  roofed  over,  and  having  an  entrance  on 
the  side,  bearing  such  a  striking  resemblance  in  miniature 
to  the  old-fashioned  out-door  oven,  that  the  builder  has 
been  christened  the  "Oven-bird."  Frequently  the  nest  is 
truly  "a  thing  of  beauty."  Composed  of  dried  leaves  and 
grasses,  sometimes  intermixed  with  shreds  of  bark  and  fine 
twigs,  or  ornamented  with  mosses,  thickly  arched  with 
skeleton-leaves,  or  feathery  tops  of  the  finer  grasses — it  looks 
almost  ethereal.  Not  infrequently,  however,  the  nest  is 


314  YELLOW-BACKED  BLUE    WARBLER. 

plainer,  containing  a  moderate  amount  of  material,  and  that 
of  the  coarser  sort,  slightly  arched  with  the  plain  culms  of 
dried  grasses,  or  with  pine  needles.  The  eggs,  4  or  5,  about 
.78  X  -60,  and  therefore  unusually  roundish,  are  white  as 
porcelain,  finely  specked  and  spotted  with  red,  brown  and 
lilac,  mostly  around  the  larger  end,  often  in  a  wreath,  and 
are  real  objects  of  beauty  in  the  nest  so  smoothly  lined  with 
skeleton-leaves  and  horse-hairs.  They  resemble  those  of 
the  Warblers,  too,  and  not  the  strongly-marked,  bluish- 
green  eggs  of  the  Thrushes. 

Wintering  in  the  extreme  Southern  States,  Mexico,  Cen- 
tral America,  and  the  West  India  Islands,  its  breeding  hab- 
itat extends  even  to  the  arctic  regions,  whence  it  returns 
in  the  early  autumn. 

YELLOW-BACKED    BLUE    WARBLER. 

Next  thing  to  shooting  bumble-bees  is  the  bringing  down 
our  smaller  Warblers  from  the  tallest  tree-tops.  So  I  feel, 
as  from  the  highest  branches  of  a  great  elm,  I  pick  out 
a  Yellow-backed  Blue  Warbler  (Parula  americand),  the 
smallest  of  the  family.  Only  4.50  long,  the  upper  parts  are 
a  delicate  blue,  slightly  tinged  with  ash,  with  a  bronze- 
yellow  patch  on  the  back;  throat  and  breast  yellow,  with  a 
collar  of  black  and  bronze,  often  more  or  less  mixed,  across 
the  upper  breast;  under  parts,  wing-coverts,  and  spots  in 
outer  tail-feathers,  white.  Though  it  is  by  no  means  brill- 
iant, I  admire  it  for  its  plain  and  modest  beauty.  There  is 
something  retired  and  elevated,  too,  in  its  manner.  Its 
path  is,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  very  tops  of  the  beeches 
and  maples  on  uplands  and  hills.  Seldom,  indeed,  is  its 
nest  less  than  20  feet  from  the  ground.  Often  it  is  much 
higher.  Hopping  or  flitting  from  point  to  point,  hanging 
by  the  feet,  or  peering  quaintly  among  the  leaves,  all  its 


THE  KINGBIRD.  315 

movements  are  most  sprightly  and  graceful.  Its  nest  is 
built  wholly  of  what  appears  to  be  a  light-green  hanging 
moss,  but  it  is  in  reality  a  lichen  (usnea),  common  to  many 
trees  of  the  north.  The  form  is  sometimes  globular,  with 
an  entrance  on  the  side,  sometimes  open  at  the  top,  and 
appearing  like  a  common  bunch  of  the  material,  in  its  native 
position  on  the  tree.  It  is  unlike  the  nest  of  any  other  bird, 
and  exceedingly  difficult  to  find.  The  eggs,  often  not  more 
than  3,  and  laid  early  in  June,  are  some  .65  x  .50,  white, 
specked  and  spotted  with  reddish-brown  and  lilac,  particu- 
larly around  the  large  end.  Parula's  song  is  by  no  means 
as  interesting  as  its  nest.  Though  chiming  in  well  with  the 
many  voices  of  spring,  considered  apart,  it  is  scarcely  more 
than  a  prolonged  and  pleasing  squeak. 

Breeding  in  the  Southern  and  Middle  States,  Parula 
americana  becomes  more  common  in  New  England,  and 
extends  to  Nova  Scotia,  and  west  to  the  Missouri.  Southern 
Florida  is  its  northernmost  abode  in  winter. 

THE   KINGBIRD. 

As  I  return  home  across  the  fields  I  observe  a  pair  of 
Kingbirds  (Tyrannus  carolinensis]  perched  on  a  fence  and 
uttering  a  series  of  notes,  tsip-tsip-tsip-tseep-tseep,  tsi-tsi-tsee,  tsi- 
tsi-tsee,  tsi-tsi,  tsee-tsee,  the  whole  being  so  modulated  as  to  sound 
more  like  a  song  than  anything  I  ever  heard  from  this  bird 
before.  Eight  inches  long,  blackish-gray  above,  wings  and 
tail  nearly  black,  under  parts  and  edge  of  the  tail  white,  a 
flame-colored  spot  under  the  tips  of  the  feathers  on  the 
crown,  the  male  a  little  darker  than  the  female— -this  bird 
is  almost  as  well  known  as  the  Robin  or  Bluebird.  Most 
noticeable  of  all  are  his  pugnacious  habits.  Occupying 
some  low  perch  in  the  garden  or  orchard,  or  alighted  on  the 
fence  by  the  meadow,  pasture  or  roadside,  his  big  head 


316  THE  KINGBIRD. 

looking  bigger  than  it  really  is,  because  of  its  erected  feath- 
ers, his  whole  mood  sullen  and  querulous,  his  sharp  screeping 
note  coughed  out  and  accompanied  by  a  jerk  of  the  tail,  he 
does  not  possess  one  single  trait  of  amiability;  but,  like  some 
ill-natured  braggart,  seems  always  on  the  watch  for  a  chance 
to  fight.  Whether  the  passer-by  be  a  Buzzard  a  Crow,  or 
the  tiniest  Sparrow,  at  once  he  intercepts  his  track  and  in- 
sults him  in  the  most  wanton  manner.  Slow  and  tremulous 
as  his  flight  seems  to  be,  he  keeps  tolerably  close  chase  with 
almost  anything.  Whether  those  saucy  thrusts,  as  he  lets 
himself  down  on  the  back  of  that  soaring  Red-tailed  Hawk, 
are  painful  or  not,  they  are  certainly  very  annoying,  as  the 
vexed  evolutions  of  the  dignified  bird  clearly  show.  Again 
and  again  the  little  sauce-box  dashes  himself  against  him, 
while  the  Buzzard  tips  and  veers,  threatening  his  insignifi- 
cant tormentor  with  beak  and  claw,  and  making  off  with  as 
little  show  of  disconcertion  as  possible.  He  scarcely  rids 
himself  of  the  nuisance,  however,  even  at  a  great  height  in 
the  air.  All  the  smaller  birds  in  the  neighborhood  bear 
with  his  attacks  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  get  out  of  his  way 
-with  all  speed.  Arriving  the  first  week  in  May,  the  orchard 
is  his  favorite  resort.  Here  his  note,  sometimes  uttered 
singly,  often  twice  in  succession,  is  one  of  the  most  familiar 
and  constant  sounds.  Perched  on  some  branch  or  part  of 
the  fence,  after  the  manner  of  the  Flycatchers  in  general, 
he  waits  for  his  insect  prey,  which  he  snaps  up  on  the  wing 
with  a  sharp  click  of  the  bill  as  he  cuts  short  circles  in  the 
air,  sometimes  hovering  beautifully  to  reconnoiter,  or  take 
his  pick  from  a  flock  of  gnats.  Occasionally  he  may  snap 
up  a  bee  from  the  hive,  but  for  this  small  trespass  his  exten- 
sive destruction  of  noxious  insects  abundantly  compensates. 
The  Kingbird's  nest  is  on  some  horizontal  limb  of  a  tree 
in  the  orchard  or  open  field,  not  very  far  from  the  ground. 


THE    WHITE-CROWNED   SPARROW.  317 

It  is  composed  early  in  June  of  dried  weeds,  small  sticks 
and  roots,  bits  of  moss,  leaves,  down,  and  especially  wool, 
lined  with  fine  rootlets  and  some  horse-hair.  The  eggs,  4  or 
5,  averaging  some  1.00  X  .75,  are  creamy- white,  spotted  and 
blotched  with  brown  and  lilac  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make 
them  always  distinguishable. 

Late  in  August  these  birds  may  be  seen  in  families,  and 
by  September  they  leave  for  the  south,  wintering  in  the 
most  Southern  States,  and  southward  even  to  Peru,  whence 
they  return  throughout  North  America,  breeding  in  their 
entire  range  as  far  as  57°. 

The  Gray  Kingbird  ( Tyrannus  dominicensis)  of  Florida  and 
the  extreme  Southern  States  is  9.00-9.50  long,  with  the  tail 
slightly  forked;  brownish-slate  or  ash  above,  darker  on  the 
head,  and  auriculars  dusky;  white  below,  shading  into  ash 
on  the  breast  and  sides;  under  coverts  and  edgings  of  the 
dusky  wings  and  tail,  yellowish.  Its  habits  are  similar  to 
those  of  the  former,  but  it  is  more  noisy.  It  is  merely  acci- 
dental in  the  north. 

The  elegant  Swallow- tailed  Flycatcher  (Milvulus  forficatus) 
of  the  southwest  barely  reaches  the  lower  Mississippi. 

THE    WHITE-CROWNED    SPARROW. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  afternoon  of  this  same  tenth  of 
May,  as  I  ride  by  a  large  orchard  belonging  to  one  of  my 
parishioners,  I  am  delighted  with  a  whole  chorus  of  White- 
crowned  Sparrows  (Zonotrichia  leucophrys),  making  melody 
in  the  blooming  branches.  The  song  is  quite  peculiar, 
whee-who-who-zee-zee-zee,  the  first  three  notes  in  a  clear  whis- 
tle, and  the  last  three  in  a  sort  of  jew's-harp  tone,  the  whole 
being  decidedly  pleasing,  and  not  at  all  like  that  of  the 
White-throat.  Appearing  already  in  the  latter  part  of 
April,  they  are  very  common  along  the  fences,  hedges  and 


018 


THE    WHITE-CROWNED   SPARROW. 


orchards  in  migration  at  this  time  of  year;  but  they  do  not 
always  sing.  Sometimes  a  few  will  linger  on  the  same  spot, 
singing  more  or  less  for  a  number  of  days,  but  one  does  not 
often  meet  such  a  full  chorus  of  them. 


THE    WHITE-CROWNED    SPARROW. 


This  is  one  of  the  largest  and  certainly  the  most  beautiful 
of  all  our  Sparrows.  Seven  inches  long;  crown  clear  white, 
with  jet-black  on  each  side  and  white  line  over  the  eye; 
upper  parts  a  beautiful  ash  and  brown;  wing-bars  white; 
neck  and  under  parts  light  ash,  becoming  white  on  the  vent 
and  light-brown  on  the  flanks;  bill  and  feet  dark  cinnamon. 
The  male  and  female  are  alike.  The  White-crown  has  a 
habit  of  standing  pretty  well  erect,  with  the  feathers  of  the 
entire  crown  raised,  thus  looking  exceedingly  jaunty;  while 
all  his  colors,  of  chaste,  rich  tints,  finely  harmonized,  set  him 
out  to  the  best  advantage. 

Wintering  in  the  Southern  States,  the  White-crowned 
Sparrows  go  far  north  to  breed,  Newfoundland  and  Labra- 


THE    WHITE-THROATED   SPARROW.  319 

dor  being  the  principal  resorts  to  the  eastward,  while  in  the 
mountainous  regions  westward  they  breed  as  far  south  as 
Colorado.  Fred.  Boshart,  however,  the  young  ornithologist 
of  Lowville,  N.  Y.,  found  a  nest  July  7th,  1877,  in  Denmark, 
Lewis  County,  N.  Y.  In  a  very  rough  place  of  logs  and 
windfalls,  it  was  placed  about  five  inches  above  ground, 
thus  differing  from  its  ordinary  location.  It  contained  one 

egg- 

Audubon  describes  a  nest  found  in  Labrador,  and  in  all 
respects  representative,  as  follows:  "  The  nest  was  placed  in 
the  moss,  near  the  foot  of  a  low  fir,  and  was  formed  exter- 
nally of  beautiful  dry  green  moss,  matted  in  bunches  like 
the  coarse  hair  of  some  quadruped,  internally  of  very  fine 
dry  grass,  arranged  with  great  neatness  to  the  thickness  of 
nearly  half  an  inch,  with  a  full  lining  of  delicate  fibrous 
roots  of  a  rich  transparent  yellow.  *  *  *  The  eggs,  five  in 
number,  average  ^  of  an  inch  in  length,  are  proportion- 
ately broad,  of  a  light  sea-green  color,  mottled  toward  the 
larger  end  with  brownish  spots  and  blotches,  a  few  spots  of 
a  lighter  tint  being  dispersed  over  the  whole."  He  found 
the  nests  numerous  in  that  locality,  as  also  did  Dr.  Coues. 
The  former  gives  June  as  their  breeding  time.  He  also 
says:  "The  food  of  this  species,  while  in  Labrador,  consists 
of  small  coleopterous  insects,  grass-seeds,  and  a  variety  of 
berries,  as  well  as  some  minute  shell-fish,  for  which  they 
frequently  search  the  margins  of  ponds  or  the  sea-shore." 
By  the  first  of  October  the  White-crown  begins  to  pass  this 
point  on  its  way  south,  and  is  quite  common  for  several 
weeks. 

THE  WHITE-THROATED    SPARROW. 

As  I  continue  my  ride,  passing  a  thicket  near  a  large 
block  of  woods,  I  meet  a  company  of  some  half-dozen 
White-throated  Sparrows  (Zonotrichia  albicollis)  leisurely 


320  THE    WHITE-THROATED  SPARROW. 

gathering  food  among  the  brush  and  bushes.  They  may  be 
found  here  as  a  common  migrant  from  the  last  week  in 
April  till  after  the  middle  of  May,  following  thickets,  brier 
patches,  and  swampy  places;  and  again  in  September  and 


THE   WHITE-THROATED    SPARROW 

October,  or  even  later.  Somewhat  shy,  slow,  and  dignified 
in  their  movements,  uttering  a  soft  and  somewhat  prolonged 
tseep,  they  are  not  very  noticeable  except  to  the  ornitholo- 
gist In  the  autumn  I  have  heard  them  utter  a  sharp  pimp, 
sounding  a  little  like  the  spirited  alarm  of  the  Robin.  Sel- 
dom indeed  do  they  favor  us  with  their  song  as  birds  of 
passage.  I  have  heard  it,  however,  from  some  solitary  male 
perched  on  a  stub  in  a  thicket  on  a  beautiful  May  morning. 
In  their  breeding  haunts,  which  are  from  Northern  New 
England  far  to  the  northward,  their  very  pleasing  melody 
is  quite  common. 

In  Great  Manitoulin  Island  and  vicinity,  where  I  found 
these  birds  abundant  in  the  breeding  season,  it  is  one  of  the 
earliest,  the  commonest,  and  certainly  the  most  impressive 
of  bird-songs  to  be  heard.  Thoreau  in  the  North  Woods 


THE    WHITE-THROATED   SPARROW.  321 

of  Maine,  and  Burroughs  in  the  great  forests  north  of 
Quebec,  found  this  Sparrow  in  great  numbers;  and  it  is 
found  equally  common  in  New  Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia. 
The  notation  of  its  song  could  be  easily  written  on  the 
musical  staff.  Beginning  generally  on  the  fifth  note  of  the 
scale,  after  the  first  syllable,  it  ascends  to  the  eighth  or 
last  note,  and  ends  in  four  syllables  more.  After  the  first 
syllable  of  the  song  the  bird  will  sometimes  utter  the 
second  on  the  second  or  third  note  of  the  scale  above,  and 
then  dropping  back  will  render  the  remaining  three  sylla- 
bles on  the  usual  pitch  for  the  ending.  I  have  heard  it 
begin  on  the  last  note  of  the  scale,  and  after  sounding  two 
syllables,  drop  to  the  sixth  interval  for  the  remaining  three 
syllables,  thus  giving  a  beautiful  minor  effect.  If  several 
are  singing  after  the  first-named  or  ordinary  manner,  they 
may  each  perform  on  a  different  key,  one  responding  to  the 
other  from  different  dead  trees  or  tall  stubs  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. The  charm  of  the  song  is  principally  in  the  pathos 
of  the  tones,  which  resemble  those  of  the  song  proper  of  the 
Chickadee,  being  an  inimitably  tender  and  vibrating  or 
tremulous  whistle.  There  are  few  bird-songs  which  are  so 
affecting  to  an  aesthetic  nature  as  is  this  simple  pastoral. 
The  tenderest  and  most  sympathetic  ideas,  with  a  tinge  of 
melancholy,  find  their  expression  in  these  strongly  charac- 
terized notes,  which,  as  Thoreau  says,  "are  as  distinct  to 
the  ear  as  the  passage  of  a  spark  of  fire  shot  into  the  dark- 
est of  the  forest  would  be  to  the  eye."  All  such  representa- 
tions of  this  song,  as  "pea-body,  pe-a-body,  pe-a-body"  or,  "all 
day  whittling,  whittling,  whitling"  or,  "  ah!  te-te-te-te-te-te-te-te- 
te,"  are  mere  caricatures,  furnishing  at  best  but  a  rude 
suggestion  of  its  plaintive,  tender  melodiousness. 

To   introduce   this  bird   more    fully,  his    length  is  6.00; 
crown  black,  with  line   of  white  through  the  center;  lines 
21 


322  THE  BLACKBURNIAN   WARBLER. 

over  the  eyes;  bright  yellow  from  the  base  of  the  bill  to  the 
eye,  then  white  to  the  neck;  upper  parts,  reddish-brown 
and  blackish-brown,  intermixed  with  streaks  of  whitish; 
wing-bars,  white;  cheeks,  dark-ash;  throat,  white;  under 
parts,  whitish-ash;  female  and  immature  male,  with  the 
bright  head-markings  quite  obscure.  The  male,  in  perfect 
plumage,  is  decidedly  beautiful;  by  some  he  is  regarded  as 
the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  Sparrows. 

The  nest,  on  the  ground,  in  bushy  fields,  is  of  dried 
grass,  weeds  and  mosses,  lined  with  rootlets  or  fine  grasses. 
The  eggs,  4  or  5,  some  .85X-62,  are  grayish- white,  spotted 
and  splashed  with  brown  and  paler  markings.  The  White- 
throat  winters  throughout  the  Southern  States. 

THE    BLACKBURNIAN    WARBLER. 

The  most  prominent  physical  feature  just  south  of  Lake 
Ontario  is  the  Ridge,  a  graceful  elevation  of  sandy  soil  sup- 
posed to  have  been  once  either  the  shore  of  the  lake,  or  an 
immense  sand-bar.  The  highway,  which  follows  its  great- 
est elevation,  and  is  broad  enough  to  admit  several  teams 
abreast,  was  once  the  grand  thoroughfare  from  Buffalo  to 
Albany.  Now  the  northern  branch  of  the  New  York  Cen- 
tral Railroad  and  the  Erie  Canal  just  south  of  it  have  broken 
up  the  great  line  of  stage-coaches,  and  greatly  decreased 
the  immense  processions  of  farm  wagons  loaded  with  prod- 
uce, and  the  crowds  of  light-hearted  travelers  on  pleasure 
and  visiting  excursions.  Thus  the  great  Broadway  of  the 
region  round  about  has  been  almost  cleared  of  its  enter- 
prise. The  distilleries  and  hotels  are  deserted,  and  the 
towns  either  have  ceased  to  grow  or  are  in  a  state  of  decline. 
But  the  beautiful  highway,  almost  equally  good  at  any  time 
of  year,  is  still  the  same.  Spring  comes  here  days — almost 
weeks — in  advance,  and  the  mildness  of  autumn  lingers  with 


THE  BLACKBURNIAN    WARBLER.  323 

retarded  pace.  Hence  people  prefer  to  live  here,  and  in  our 
county  (Orleans)  the  Ridge  is  almost  a  continuous  village. 

In  the  woods  and  thickets  on  the  low  ground  just  north 
of  the  Ridge,  where  once  the  waters  of  the  lake  rolled,  is  our 
best  locality  for  the  summer  birds,  especially  the  Warblers. 
The  llth  of  May,  1879,  was  one  of  the  loveliest  spring  days  we 
have  ever  seen.  The  leaves  were  out,  the  sky  was  clear,  the 
sun  warm,  and  the  very  air  seemed  palpitating  with  life. 

My  friend  F and  I  were  skirting  the  woods  north  of  the 

Ridge.  O,  what  a  day  it  was  for  Warblers!  They  were  pass- 
ing to  the  north  in  one  continuous  troop.  Most  abundant 
of  all  on  that  day  were  the  Blackburnians  (Dendrceca  black- 
burnice),  the  most  brilliant  of  the  family.  We  can  find 
some  of  them  every  spring  in  this  locality,  but  they  are  not 
always  numerous. 

The  male  is  black  above,  with  a  white  streak  on  each 
shoulder,  also  several  similar  streaks  along  the  lower  part 
of  the  back  and  rump,  the  large  wing-spots,  and  base  and 
greater  part  of  the  outer  tail-feathers,  white  ;  spot  along 
the  crown,  streak  from  the  base  of  the  bill  above  the  eye  to 
the  back  of  the  head,  thence  bending  forward  in  a  broad 
band  along  the  sides  of  the  neck,  and  the  lower  eye-lid 
orange  yellow,  throat  and  upper  part  of  breast  fiery  orange, 
fading  into  white;  underneath  the  small  spot  on  the  side 
of  the  neck  and  the  streaks  along  the  sides,  black.  The 
markings  of  the  female  are  similar  to  those  of  the  male, 
except  that  all  the  colors  are  lighter,  the  orange  on  the 
throat  fading  into  a  delicate  yellow. 

In  its  very  graceful  movements  this  little  bird  keeps  en- 
tirely to  the  trees,  and  not  generally  very  high  up,  flitting 
from  point  to  point  in  search  of  its  hidden  insect  food,  and 
emitting  a  loud,  pleasing  warble.  It  is  mostly  a  bird  of  the 
upland,  and  quite  fond  of  evergreens — a  lovely  sylvan  orna- 


324  THE  BLACKBURNIAN    WARBLER. 

merit,  strikingly  in  harmony  with  this  gala-day  of  spring. 
As  is  the  case  with  most  of  our  brilliant  birds,  the  male  re- 
quires several  years  to  acquire  his  richest  tints,  hence  Wil- 
son and  Audubon  described  the  male  of  the  second  year  as 
a  separate  species,  called  the  Hemlock  Warbler,  and  Bona- 
parte even  distinguished  it  as  of  a  different  genus. 

Wintering  in  Mexico  and  Central  America,  this  Warbler 
migrates  through  Eastern  North  America  generally,  being 
seen  by  Audubon  in  the  Magdalen  Islands,  Newfoundland 
and  Labrador.  Beginning  to  breed  sparingly  in  the  Middle 
States  and  Southern  New  England,  its  principal  breeding 
range  would  seem  to  be  to  the  northward.  It  is  not  uncom- 
mon in  the  breeding  season  in  Maine.  President  MacCul- 
loch,  of  Halifax,  N.  S.,  favored  Audubon  with  the  nest  of 
this  species,  but  regarded  the  bird  as  rare  in  that  province. 
This  must  be  true,  as  my  correspondent,  Mr.  Andrew 
Downes  of  Halifax,  an  experienced  ornithologist,  does  not 
report  it. 

Audubon  describes  the  above  nest  as  follows:  "It  was 
composed  externally  of  different  textures,  and  lined  with 
silky  fibers  and  then  delicate  strips  of  fine  bark,  over  which 
lay  a  thick  bed  of  feathers  and  horse-hair.  The  eggs  were 
small,  very  conical  towards  the  smaller  end,  pure  white, 
with  a  few  spots  of  light-red  towards  the  larger  end.  It  was 
found  in  a  small  fork  of  a  tree  five  or  six  feet  from  the 
ground,  near  a  brook."  Mr.  H.  D.  Minot  says:  "  A  nest  of 
this  species,  containing  young,  which  I  found  in  Northern 
New  Hampshire,  was  placed  about  twenty  feet  from  the 
ground  in  a  pine.  Another,  which  I  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
find  in  a  thick  hemlock-wood  near  Boston,  was  also  about 
twenty  feet  from  the  ground.  It  contained  three  young 
and  an  unhatched  egg,  which  measures  .65  X  .50,  and  resem- 
bles the  egg  of  the  Chestnut-sided  Warbler,  being  white, 


THE   CCERULEAN    WARBLER.  325 

with  lilac,  and  principally  reddish-brown  markings  grouped 
at  the  larger  end." 

THE    CCERULEAN    WARBLER. 

I  discharge  both  loads  from  my  double-barrel,  and  bring 
down  a  pair  of  Warblers,  male  and  female,  from  the  top  of 
a  tall  maple.  They  are  fine  specimens  of  the  Ccerulean 
Warbler  (Dendrcecacceruled).  Have  they  just  dropped  down 
from  the  skies,  and  brought  the  pure  azure  with  them? 
Except  the  dusky  wings  and  tail,  dark  wing-coverts  and 
centers  of  many  of  the  feathers  and  white  under  parts,  the 
epithet,  ccerulean,  or  sky-blue,  is  certainly  applicable  to  the 
male,  particularly  to  his  head,  back  and  collar  just  above  the 
breast.  Excepting  her  lighter  markings,  less  dusky  wings 
and  tail,  missing  collar  and  greenish  tint  over  the  head  and 
back,  the  female  is  the  same  as  the  male.  This  species  has 
the  streaks  along  the  sides,  and  the  white  marks  in  the 
outer  tail-feathers,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  Den- 
drceca. 

The  Ccerulean  Warbler,  apparently  belonging  to  the  Mis- 
sissippi Valley,  and  scarcely  a  casual  visitor  on  the  Atlantic 
Coast,  like  certain  other  species  of  its  locality,  finds  its 
way  around  the  Alleghany  Mountains  for  a  short  distance, 
and  is  very  common  throughout  the  summer  in  Western 
New  York.  Indeed,  it  is  not  uncommon  as  a  summer  resi- 
dent in  the  central  part  of  the  State.  I  have  had  every 
opportunity  of  observing  its  habits;  and,  as  no  writer  has 
given  it  a  full  record,  I  bear  it  a  special  accountability. 

It  is  a  bird  of  the  woods,  everywhere  associated  with  the 
beautiful  tall  forests  of  the  more  northern  counties  of 
Western  New  York,  sometimes  found  in  the  open  woods  of 
pasture-lands,  and  quite  partial  to  hard-wood  trees.  In  its 
flitting  motion  in  search  of  insect  prey,  and  in  the  jerking 


326  THE  BA  Y-BREA  S  TED    WA  RBLER. 

curves  of  its  more  prolonged  flight,  as  also  in  structure,  it 
is  a  genuine  Wood  Warbler,  and  keeps  for  the  most  part  to 
what  Thoreau  calls  "the  upper  story"  of  its  sylvan  domain. 
Its  song,  which  is  frequent,  and  can  be  heard  for  some  dis- 
tance, may  be  imitated  by  the  syllables,  rheety  rheet,  rheet, 
rheet,  ridi,  idi-e-e-e-ee,  beginning  with  several  soft  warbling 
notes,  and  ending  in  a  rather  prolonged  but  quite  musical 
squeak.  The  latter  and  more  rapid  part  of  the  strain, 
which  is  given  in  the  upward  slide,  approaches  an  insect 
quality  of  tone,  which  is  more  or  less  common  to  all  Blue 
Warblers. 

This  song  is  so  common  here  as  to  be  a  universal  character- 
istic of  our  tall  forests.  The  bird  is  shy  when  startled  from  its 
nest,  and  has  the  sharp,  chipping  alarm  note  of  the  family. 
The  nest  is  saddled  on  a  horizontal  limb  of  considerable 
size,  some  distance  from  the  tree,  and  some  forty  or  fifty 
feet  from  the  ground.  Small  and  very  neatly  and  com- 
pactly built,  somewhat  after  the  style  of  the  Redstart,  it 
consists  outwardly  of  fine  dried  grasses,  bits  of  wasp's-nest, 
gray  lichen,  and  more  especially  of  old  and  weathered 
wood-fibers,  making  it  look  quite  gray  and  waspy.  The 
lining  is  of  fine  dried  grasses,  or  of  fine  shreds  of  the  wild 
grape-vine,  thus  giving  the  inside  a  rich  brown  appearance 
in  contrast  with  the  gray  exterior.  The  eggs,  4  or  5,  some 
.60X-47,  are  grayish  or  greenish-white,  pretty  well  spotted 
or  specked,  or  even  blotched,  especially  about  the  large 
end,  with  brown  and  deep  lilac.  They  do  not  possess  that 
delicate  appearance  common  to  the  eggs  of  most  of  the 
Warblers. 

THE    BAY-BREASTED    WARBLER. 

In  a  small  ash  tree,  a  little  out  from  the  woods  and  alone 
in  the  field,  I  spy  a  Warbler  somewhat  larger  than  most  of 
the  family,  and  rather  slow  in  its  movements.  Shooting  it, 


THE  BAY-BREASTED    WARBLER.  327 

I  recognize  it  as  the  Bay-breasted  Warbler  (Dendrceca  cas- 
taned).  As  I  hold  it  in  my  hand,  I  cannot  but  admire  the 
plain  richness  of  its  costume.  The  back  is  greenish-gray 
streaked  with  black;  wings  and  tail  dusky,  the  former  barred, 
the  latter  spotted  on  the  inner  web  of  the  cuter-feathers 
with  white;  forehead  and  sides  of  the  head  black;  head, 
throat,  breast  and  sides  a  rich  chestnut;  under  parts  reddish- 
white,  with  a  patch  of  clear  light  buff  on  each  side  of  the 
neck,  making  a  fine  contrast  with  his  dark  colors.  The  fe- 
male is  similarly  marked,  but  a  good  deal  lighter. 

Though  not  rare,  as  in  New  England  and  Nova  Scotia, 
this  species  can  hardly  be  called  common  in  the  migrations 
of  this  locality,  except  in  certain  seasons.  The  spring  of  1880 
brought  it  in  large  numbers  during  the  second  week  in  May. 
Mr.  Allen  says  "in  the  Connecticut  Valley  it  is  generally 
more  or  less  common,  and  sometimes  very  abundant."  Dr. 
Coues  found  it  rather  common  around  Washington,  D.  C., 
in  the  migrations,  and  while  none  of  the  earlier  ornitholo- 
gists knew  much  about  it,  nor  anything  of  its  nidification, 
Mr.  Maynard  has  found  it  resident  and  breeding,  early  in 
June,  in  considerable  numbers  at  Umbagog  Lake.  The  nest, 
which  is  rather  bulky,  and  usually  placed  in  a  hemlock  tree 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  from  the  ground,  is  of  "  fine,  dead 
larch-twigs,  mixed,  in  one  instance,  with  long  tree-moss," 
and  is  "smoothly  lined  with  black  fibrous  rootlets,  some 
moss  and  rabbit's  hair,"  giving  it  a  striking  resemblance  to 
the  nest  of  the  "Purple  Finch."  The  eggs  are  said  to  be 
"  bluish-green,  more  or  less  thickly  speckled  with  brown  all 
over,  the  markings  becoming  confluent,  or  nearly  so,  at  or 
around  the  larger  end,  where  the  brown  is  mixed  with  lilac 
or  umber  markings."  As  to  the  migrations  of  this  species, 
the  same  author  says  :  "  Avoiding  the  Eastern  and  Middle 
States,  the  majority  pass  along  the  borders  of  the  Great 


328  THE  BLACK-AND-YELLOW   WARBLER. 

Lakes,  through  Ohio,  Southern  Illinois,  down  the  Missis- 
sippi Valley,  across  into  Texas,  and  so  on  into  Mexico  and 
Central  America,  where  they  winter.  Returning  in  spring, 
they  pursue  a  more  southern  route,  keeping  along  the  coast 
as  far  as  the  New  England  States,  where  they  ascend  the 
Connecticut  Valley,  generally  avoiding  Eastern  Massachu- 
setts." Its  song,  said  to  begin  like  that  of  the  Black-poll 
and  end  like  that  of  the  Redstart,  bears  to  my  ear  no  re- 
semblance whatever  to  either,  but  is  a  very  soft  warble, 
somewhat  resembling  the  syllables  tse-chee,  tse-chee,  tse-chee, 
tse-chee,  tse-chee,  but  far  too  liquid  to  admit  of  exact  spelling. 

THE    BLACK-AND-YELLOW    WARBLER. 

The  wild  grape,  that  common  and  exquisitely  graceful 
ornament  of  our  woods,  has  completely  enshrouded  a  clump 
of  bushes  yonder;  and  as  the  leaves  are  just  putting  forth, 
of  a  reddish  tinted  texture,  and  hoary  with  down,  they 
seem  particularly  attractive  to  the  passing  crowd  of  War- 
blers. There  comes  from  its  bowery  depths  a  whist- 
ling warble,  very  liquid  and  sweet,  and  so  soft  that  it  can  be 
heard  only  a  few  feet  distant,  whee-cho^  whee-cho,  whee-cho, 
whee-choy  whee-cho.  After  peering  cautiously  for  several 
minutes,  I  recognize  the  quick,  flitting  movement  of  the 
Black-and-yellow  Warbler  (Dendra>ca  maculosa). 

In  its  northern  breeding  places  its  song  is  a  loud,  clear 
whistle,  which  may  be  imitated  by  the  syllables  chee-to,  chee- 
to,  chee-tee-ee,  uttered  rapidly  and  ending  in  the  falling 
inflection.  It  is  interesting  to  note  how  faint  and  imper- 
fect an  attempt  at  the  final  and  full  song  on  their  breeding- 
grounds  is  the  occasional  soft,  lisping  warble  of  the 
Warblers  as  they  pass  us  in  the  migrations.  Any  one  thus 
studying  these  soft  utterances  has  the  merest  prelude  to  the 
final  burst  of  joy  when  the  bird  reaches  its  summer  home. 


THE  BLACK-AND-YELLOW    WARBLER.  329 

I  cannot  always  see  maculosa  as  early  as  this,  but  may  find 
it  quite  common  about  the  18th  or  20th  of  this  genial  month 
of  May.  Emitting  a  soft  note,  e-a,  e-a,  probably  a  faint  echo 
of  its  alarm  note  in  breeding  times — cree-e-e-e-e-ep,  long 
drawn  and  like  that  of  the  Vireos — it  keeps  to  the  lower 
story  of  the  woods,  and  is  not  at  all  shy,  thus  giving  me  a 
good  opportunity  to  note  its  manners  as  it  is  gleaning  dili- 
gently. As  it  peers  gracefully  among  the  tender  foliage 
who  can  fail  to  admire  its  gentleness  and  beauty?  Among 
the  smallest  (4.25  long  and  8.10  in  extent)  and  the  most  deli- 
cately formed  of  its  genus,  its  color  is  really  brilliant. 
Crown  ashy-blue,  margined  on  the  sides  with  white;  fore- 
head, cheeks,  back,  wings  and  tail,  black  or  blackish;  throat, 
rump  and  under  parts,  bright  lemon-yellow,  the  latter 
heavily  blotched  and  streaked  with  jet-black;  lower  eye- 
lids, wing-coverts  and  large  central  patch  on  the  inner  web 
of  most  of  the  tail-feathers,  pure  white;  thus  giving  a  striking 
effect  as  the  tail  spreads  in  its  various  flitting  motions — 
this  little  beauty  would  do  justice  to  the  tropics.  The 
female  is  less  brilliant,  and  not  so  distinctly  marked.  But, 
excepting  its  sojourn  in  winter,  which  extends  entirely  south 
of  the  United  States,  this  is  especially  a  northern  bird, 
breeding  from  Northern  New  England  to  Hudson's  Bay. 

Mr.  C.  J.  Maynard  describes  a  nest,  taken  at  Umbagog 
the  second  week  in  June,  1870,  as  follows:  "It  was  placed 
on  the  forked  branch  of  a  low  spruce,  about  three  feet  from 
the  ground,  on  a  rising  piece  of  land,  leading  from  a  wood- 
path.  The  nest,  which  contained  four  eggs,  was  con- 
structed of  dry  grass,  spruce  twigs,  roots,  etc.,  and  was 
lined  with  fine  black  roots,  the  whole  being  a  coarse  struct- 
ure for  so  dainty  looking  a  Warbler.  The  eggs  were  more 
spherical  than  any  Warbler's  I  have  ever  seen.  The  ground 
color  is  a  creamy-white,  blotched  sparingly  over  with  large 


330          THE  BLACK-THROATED    BLUE    WARBLER. 

spots  of  lilac  and  umber."  Another,  which  was  taken  June 
8th,  1871,  was  "composed  outwardly  of  a  few  scattered  dead 
twigs  of  larch,  interwoven  with  stalks  of  weeds  and  dry 
grass.  It  is  lined  with  black  horse-hair;  this  dark  lining 
forms  a  strange  contrast  with  the  faded  appearance  of  the 
outer  part.  The  whole  structure  is  very  light  and  airy  in 
appearance,  strongly  reminding  one  of  the  nest  of  the  D. 
pcnnsylvanica."  This  is  in  harmony  with  a  note  from  Mr. 
Andrew  Downes,  of  Halifax,  N.  S.,  who  says:  "I  once 
found  the  nest  of  this  bird  on  a  hard-wood  bough,  breast 
high.  It  was  composed  of  very  light  material.  I  could 
see  through  it."  From  a  nest  in  H.  A.  Ward's  cabinet,  at 
Rochester,  N.  Y.,  and  which  was  taken  in  Maine  in  June,  I 
have  the  following  note:  "Placed  in  a  fir  bush  two  feet 
from  the  ground,  shallow,  and  so  frail  that  one  can  see 
through  it,  made  of  dried  grasses  and  rootlets,  and  lined 
with  fine  rootlets  and  a  little  horse-hair.  The  4  eggs  are 
creamy- white,  spotted  and  specked  with  red,  brown  and  lilac, 
forming  a  delicate  wreath.  Size,  .62X.50." 

Like  other  Warblers,  tfiaculosa  has  a  strictly  insect  diet, 
and  contributes  greatly  to  the  preservation  of  our  forests. 

THE   BLACK-THROATED    BLUE    WARBLER. 

As  I  recline  on  a  bed  of  dry  leaves,  and  listen  to  this 
chorus  of  traveling  songsters,  I  notice  one  song,  the  tones 
of  which  strongly  resemble  the  hum  or  shrilling  of  an  in- 
sect. I  recall  the  fact  that  insects  almost  invariably  render 
their  music  by  some  external  organ,  the  wings,  or  the  wings 
and  legs  together,  for  instance,  and  so  are  instrumental 
musicians;  therefore,  this  striking  resemblance  of  a  vocal 
performer  is  all  the  more  remarkable.  Again  and  again  I 
hear  it,  zwee-zwee-zwee,  per-wee-wee-wee*  in  languid  notes, 

*  I  once  heard  this  peculiar  song  preluded  by  a  half-dozen  beautiful,  staccato,  whistling 
notes. 


THE  BLACK-THROATED  BLUE    WARBLER.         331 

slowly  drawn  out  and  not  very  loud.  I  become  excited,  and 
am  conscious  of  each  heart-throb  as  I  listen.  Now  I  have 
a  full  view  of  the  musician — the  Black-throated  Blue  War- 
bler (Dendrceca  ccerulescens}.  Rather  more  than  an  average 
in  size  as  a  Dendrceca  (5.10  long  and  7.75  in  extent),  he  is  of 
a  rich  slaty-blue  above,  often  having  graceful  little  black 
spots  on  the  back;  the  inner  webs  of  the  tail  and  wings, 
black  or  dusky;  throat,  cheeks,  and  sides  of  the  breast,  jet- 
black;  under  parts,  spots  on  the  inner  webs  of  the  outer 
tail  feathers,  and  nearly  triangular  spot  at  the  base  of  the 
primaries,  pure  white.  He  is  a  genuine  beauty;  but  his 
mate,  of  a  bluish-olive  above  and  yellowish-white  beneath, 
the  white  wing-spot  rather  obscure,  is  one  of  the  very  plain- 
est of  the  Warblers.  Generally  found  in  the  upland  forests, 
this  is  one  of  the  commonest  of  the  genus  in  Western  New 
York  during  the  migrations.  Keeping  rather  to  the  lower 
parts  of  the  trees,  though  often  found  in  the  tree-tops,  ex- 
ceedingly spry  in  all  its  movements,  it  is  not  only  a  thorough 
gleaner  among  spray  and  foliage,  but  also  a  fair  flycatcher. 
Seldom  seen  here  after  the  month*  of  May,  I  conclude  that 
I  am  not  within  the  range  of  its  breeding  habitat.  The 
most  interesting  and  thorough  account  of  its  nidification 
is  given  in  the  Nuttall  Ornithological  Bulletin  for  April, 
1876,  by  Rev.  C.  M.  Jones,  who  reports  a  nest  with  four  eggs, 
from  the  northeast  corner  of  Connecticut,  taken  June  8th, 
1874,  and  another,  with  the  same  number  of  eggs  nearly 
hatched,  on  the  13th  of  the  same  month.  Both  nests  were 
placed  but  a  few  inches  from  the  ground,  in  small  bushes  of 
laurel  in  the  woods,  near  a  swamp.  In  regard  to  the  first: 
"About  five  inches  from  the  ground  the  bush  separated  into 
three  branches,  and  in  this  triple  fork  the  nest  was  situ- 
ated." The  second  was  "  in  two  laurels.  One  of  these  lay 
horizontally  in  the  fork  of  the  other,  and  on  the  horizontal 


332  THE   CHESTNUT-SIDED    WARBLER. 

one  the  nest  was  set,  held  in  place  by  being  attached  on  one 
side  to  the  upright  branches  of  the  other."  The  nests, 
quite  similarly  built,  are  "  firm  and  compact,  composed 
outwardly  of  what  appears  to  be  the  dry  bark  of  the  grape 
vine,  with  a  few  twigs  and  roots.  This  is  covered  in  many 
places  with  a  reddish-woolly  substance,  apparently  the 
outer  covering  of  some  species  of  cocoon.  The  inside  is 
composed  of  small  black  roots  and  hair."  The  eggs  were 
" ashy- white,"  or  "with  a  slight  tinge  of  green,  spotted  and 
botched  with  brown  and  lilac  around  the  larger  end,  and 
somewhat  speckled  with  the  same  over  the  entire  surface, 
averaging  in  size  from  .61  by  .47  to  .66  by  .50."  As  in  the 
case  of  many  of  the  rest  of  the  Warblers,  the  female  was 
quite  tame,  and  allowed  the  discoverer  to  approach  quite 
near  the  nest  before  she  left  it. 

Spending  the  winter  south  of  the  United  States,  or  in 
Florida,  it  has  "been  found  as  far  north,  in  summer,  as 
Labrador.  Its  chief  habitat,  however,  must  be  a  little  to 
the  westward,  as  the  New  England  writers  do  not  speak  of 
it  as  plentiful;  Mr.  Downes  reports  it  rare  about  Halifax, 
N.  S.,  while  Audubon  saw  none  in  Newfoundland,  and  "  in 
Labrador  only  a  dead  one,  dry  and  shrivelled,  deposited 
like  a  mummy  in  the  fissure  of  a  rock." 

THE    CHESTNUT-SIDED    WARBLER. 

In  a  small  maple  in  the  edge  of  an  open  part  of  the  woods 
I  spy  one  of  my  special  favorites,  the  Chestnut-sided  War- 
bler (Dendrceca  pennsylvanicd).  Arriving  during  the  second 
week  in  May,  keeping  to  the  borders  of  open  woods, 
especially  where  thickets  are  adjoined,  and  not  generally 
aspiring  very  high,  he  is  one  of  our  common  residents. 
Some  5.50  inches  long,  with  yellow  crown,  sometimes  deli- 
cately penciled  with  black;  a  ring  of  black  slightly  mixed 


THE   CHESTNUT-SIDED    WARBLER.  333 

with  white,  extending  from  over  the  eyes  around  the  back 
of  the  head;  feathers  of  the  back  black,  deeply  edged  with 
greenish-yellow,  or  with  white  across  the  shoulders ; 
wings  and  tail  blackish,  slightly  edged  with  green- 
ish-yellow or  white,  the  latter  having  the  white  mark- 
ings on  the  inner  web  of  the  outer  feathers;  wing-coverts 
edged  with  yellowish- white;  cheeks  and  whole  under  parts, 
satiny- white;  throat  bordered  on  the  sides  with  black, 
the  neck  and  breast  bordered  with  bright  chestnut. 
The  female  is  quite  similar,  with  the  markings  less  distinct 
and  the  coloring  less  pure.  Of  a  texture  reminding  one  of 
fine  muslin  above,  and  of  silk  or  satin  beneath,  there  is 
something  particularly  delicate  and  chaste  about  the  appear- 
ance of  this  bird;  and  his  song,  a  warble  in  a  somewhat 
whistling  tone,  the  notes  resembling  the  syllables,  wee-chee, 
wee-chee,  wee-cheey  wee-chee,  accent  on  the  first  syllable  of  each 
repetition,  increasing  to  the  last,  is  one  of  the  most  spirited 
of  all  the  songs  of  the  Warblers,  and  decidedly  musical. 
Emitted  as  the  bird  is  actively  peering,  flitting  and  glean- 
ing among  the  branches,  it  gives  the  impression  of  peculiar 
sprightliness  and  joy.  Even  when  in  a  momentary  repose, 
the  raising  of  the  feathers  about  the  head,  the  drooping 
wings  and  slightly  elevated  tail,  show  a  happy  self-con- 
sciousness. 

The  nest,  built  in  the  latter  part  of  May  or  early  in  June, 
in  a  shrub  or  small  tree,  here  commonly  in  the  tops  of  the 
raspberry  or  blackberry  bushes,  never  far  from  the  ground, 
is  rather  frail,  loose  and  very  slightly  fastened,  composed 
outwardly  of  fibrous  material  intermixed  with  a  webby  text- 
ure, sometimes  with  the  covering  of  beech-buds,  and  is  lined 
with  very  fine  dried  grass,  or  shreds  of  bark  of  the  wild  grape- 
vine, and  more  or  less  horse-hair.  The  eggs,  commonly  four, 
are  specked  or  blotched  with  light-red  and  umber,  mostly 


334  CAPE  MAY   WARBLER. 

around  the  great  end,  on  a  ground  of  pure  white,  or  slightly 
tinged  with  greenish  or  grayish,  and  in  shape  are  rather 
longish  and  pointed. 

When  disturbed  or  alarmed,  the  Chestnut-side  has  the 
tsip  or  chip  common  to  the  Warblers.  It  is  said  to  breed 
abundantly  in  Massachusetts  and  throughout  New  England. 
Dr.  Coues  thinks  it  extends  "little,  if  any,  beyond,"  but 
Mr.  Downes  reports  it  as  common  around  Halifax,  N.  S. 

Mr.  Wagner,  who  sends  me  a  beautiful  nest  with  eggs, 
says  it  breeds  commonly  in  New  Canada,  Lunenburg  Co.; 
and  I  found  it  in  the  Province,  as  I  did  also  quite  commonly 
in  Great  Manitoulin  Island. 

CAPE    MAY    WARBLER. 

The  day  continues  delightful,and  as  the  Warblers  are  almost 
constantly  in  sight,  we  keep  up  a  brisk  firing.  Among  others, 
I  bring  down  a  beautiful  male  of  the  Cape  May  Warbler 
(.Dendrceca  tigrind),  somewhat  larger  than  most  Warblers,  some 
4.25  long  and  8.10  in  extent,  the  crown  is  black;  back  wings 
and  tail  of  the  same  edged  with  greenish-yellow,  the  latter 
with  the  white  on  the  inner  web  of  outer  feathers;  lesser  wing- 
coverts  white,  the  greater,  partly  edged  with  grayish-white; 
cheeks  light-brown,  sometimes  chestnut;  sides  of  the  neck, 
rump  and  under  parts,  bright  lemon-yellow,  the  latter 
streaked  with  black.  One  may  always  know  this  beautiful 
bird  by  its  brown  cheeks.  The  female  is  duller  in  marking 
and  color.  Though  not  abundant,  this  species  is  not  infre- 
quently found  here  during  the  migration.  I  saw  quite 
a  flock  of  them  in  a  larch  in  a  front-yard  in  the  village  as 
I  was  returning  from  church  one  bright  Sunday,  early  in 
May.  O,  the  inconvenience  of  seeing  birds  on  Sunday  !  but 
who  can  keep  his  eyes  shut  when  they  are  once  opened  ! 

Nowhere  found  to  be  numerous  as  yet,  this  bird  is  decid- 


CAPE  MAY    WARBLER.  335 

edly  a  stranger  to  ornithologists.  I  can  learn  nothing  of 
its  song  or  its  note,  and  almost  nothing  that  is  explicit  about 
its  nest.  Mr.  Minot  says  "  a  nest  found  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Boston  closely  resembled  that  of  the  Yellow-bird  in 
every  respect."  He  also  reports  the  five  eggs,  laid  the  first 
week  in  June,  as  similar  to  those  of  the  last  mentioned 
species.  Dr.  Brewer's  account  of  the  eggs  is  simply  that 
they  are  like  those  of  other  Warblers.  Eastern  North 
America  generally  is  given  as  its  habitat,  and  it  is  said  to 
breed  in  the  West  Indies.  Mr.  Smith,  in  his  annotated  list 
of  the  birds  of  Maine,  reports  this  species  as  "  not  very  com- 
mon. Mr.  Boardman  reports  that  it  breeds  in  Eastern  Maine, 
and  it  breeds  in  the  western  part  of  the  State  also,  but  in 
very  limited  numbers."  Mr.  Maynard,  however,  found 
these  birds  abundant  in  summer  in  the  evergreen  forests  of 
Northern  Maine.  They  kept  to  the  tall  tree-tops,  and  the 
songs  of  the  males  were  particularly  "  lively  and  varied." 
He  found  the  same  species  common  at  Key  West  in  No- 
vember, and  some  remained  there  all  winter. 

This  species  has  a  peculiar  tongue,  deeply  cloven  at  the 
tip,  and  ciliate  along  the  sides  near  the  tip.  The  Tennessee, 
or  Wandering  Warbler,  has  the  tongue  quite  similar,  but  not 
so  deeply  cleft. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

PEWEES  AND  THE  HOODED  WARBLER. 

IT  is  a  sunny  evening  on  the  15th  of  May,  one  of  those  bright 
and  tender  evenings  of  the  opening  spring,  when  the 
birth  of  soft  foliage  and  early  flowers  reminds  one  of  in- 
fancy ;  when  neither  the  chill  of  the  April  atmosphere  nor 
the  damp  dews  of  the  dog-days  chase  the  rays  of  the  set- 
ting sun;  but  balmy  airs,  free,  as  yet,  from  annoying  insects, 
and  redolent  of  forest  mould  and  fragrant  flowers,  bring 
healing  with  every  breath. 

Vegetation  always  affords  a  great  variety  of  the  tints  and 
shades  of  green,  so  that  a  strongly  contrasted  fabric  might 
be  woven  without  introducing  any  other  color;  but  these 
shades  are  never  so  varied  as  in  early  spring;  besides,  many 
other  colors  are  then  intermixed.  The  beeches  have  a  tinge 
of  yellow,  the  willows  and  poplars  are  hoary,  the  maples  and 
beech  saplings  are  reddish,  the  ashes  have  a  dash  of  deep 
purple  or  brown,  the  green  of  the  wheat  fields  differs  from 
that  of  the  meadows — in  short,  next  to  the  brilliant  effects 
of  autumn  are  the  softer  tints  of  early  spring. 

THE    WOOD    PEWEE. 

As  I  enter  one  of  our  luxuriant  tracts  of  woodland,  I  hear 
the  plaintive  note  of  the  Wood  Pewee  (Contopus  virens), 
a  beautiful  representative  of  the  Flycatcher.  Strongly  re- 
sembling the  rough,  guttural  and  somewhat  hurried  sylla- 


THE    WOOD  PEWEE.  337 

bles  of  the  Common  Pewee  (Sayornis  fuscus),  this  note  is  still 
very  noticeably  different  in  its  slow,  tender  and  somewhat 
melancholy  whistle,  pe-wee,  the  tone  of  which  is  in  fine  har- 


THE   WOOD    PEWEE. 


mony  with  the  deep  shadows  of  the  thick  forest  where  he 
so  constantly  takes  up  his  abode.  Generally  the  last  syl- 
lable is  given  in  a  gentle  upward  slide,  but  not  infrequently 
in  a  fine  falling  inflection,  and  the  two  syllables  combined 
are  always  very  pleasing.  Wood  Pewees  have  the  sweet  and 
child-like  tones  of  the  family;  and,  like  the  sentences  of 
little  children,  they  are  delivered  in  the  most  significant 
slides  and  inflections. 

About  the  size  of  Traill's  Flycatcher  and  the  small  Green 
Crested — some  six  inches  in  length — and  of  the  same  gen- 
eral olive-green  above  and  yellowish-white  beneath  (only 
the  olive  is  quite  a  good  deal  darker  than  that  of  the  latter), 
it  is  always  to  be  differentiated  by  its  nest,  which  is  a  very 
gem  in  bird-building.  Saddled  on  a  forked  limb,  often  in 
the  orchard,  often  in  the  forest,  it  is  quite  shallow,  composed 
outwardly  of  dried  grasses  or  stalks  of  small  weeds,  closely 
22 


338  THE    WOOD  PEWEE. 

fastened  together  with  spider's  web  or  silk  of  cocoons,  and 
most  elegantly  covered  with  lichens,  the  whole  appearing 
from  below  like  a  fine  gray  gnarl — the  natural  growth  of  the 
limb.  It  is  lined  with  fine  rootlets,  sometimes  mixed  with 
vegetable  down,  or  with  fine  grasses,  including  the  fringy 
tops  still  green  in  color.  This  nest  bears  a  great  resem- 
blance to  that  of  the  Humming-bird. 

In  its  inclination  to  be  sociable  with  man — for  it  loves  to 
be  in  the  orchard  in  his  immediate  neighborhood — in  gentle, 
retiring  ways,  in  sweetness  of  voice,  and  in  architectural 
skill,  the  Wood  Pewee  is  at  once  the- elite  and  the  favorite  of 
its  family. 

The  eggs,  commonly  three,  late  in  June  or  in  July,  some 
.70  x  -55,  are  creamy  white,  with  a  wreath  of  rather  heavy 
dark  spots  intermixed  with  many  which  are  pale,  as  if  partly 
effaced. 

Wintering  in  the  tropics,  this  bird  summers  in  the  Eastern 
United  States  generally,  and  in  the  British  Provinces,  breed- 
ing throughout.  On  the  whole,  it  is  rather  a  late  migrant, 
reaching  us  about  the  middle  of  May,  and  leaving  in  Sep- 
tember. 

Most  wonderful  is  that  grouping  of  characters  in  natural 
objects  by  which  they  can  be  classified.  How  came  there 
to  be  family  resemblances  where  we  do  not  find  that  com- 
munity of  descent  ever  existed  ?  Why  are  we  constantly 
detecting  plans  in  the  almost  endlessly  varied  structures 
of  natural  history  ?  How  is  it  that  a  science  or  the  under- 
standing of  nature  by  means  of  related  forms  and  functions 
is  possible  ?  How  can  we  fail  to  see  here  the  evidences  of 
an  intelligent  Creator,  whose  thoughts  are  thus  wrought 
out  into  systems  and  designs  ?  These  things  prove  that  the 
world  neither  made  itself  nor  came  by  chance.. 

In   its  broadest  relationship,  the  family  of  birds  called 


THE   OLIVE-SIDED  FLYCATCHER,  339 

Flycatchers  are  formed  throughout  the  tropical  world,  but 
the  Flycatchers  of  America  are  a  peculiar  and  well  differ- 
entiated branch,  some  of  which  extend  into  north  temperate 
latitudes.  They  are  so  distinctively  marked  as  to  be  readily 
distinguishable  from  all  other  birds.  Especially  is  this  true  of 
that  division  of  the  family  peculiar  to  North  America,  the 
Tyrannidcz.  The  great  body  of  the  nearly  four  hundred 
species  constituting  the  entire  American  group  belongs  to 
Central  and  South  America,  and  are  exceedingly  varied  in 
the  details  of  form  and  color,  some  of  them  being  very  brill- 
iant. Ours  are  merely  the  outlying  and  plainer  varieties. 

Our  North  American  Flycatchers,  the  Tyrannidce,  may  be 
distinguished  by  their  rather  large  head,  the  crown  feathers 
of  which  are  more  or  less  erectile;  by  the  bill,  which,  broad 
at  the  base,  rapidly  narrowing  to  a  sharp  point,  and 
depressed  or  flattened  across  the  top  and  underneath, 
appears  triangular  when  viewed  from  above,  the  upper 
mandible  being  hooked  and  notched  near  the  tip,  while  the 
mouth  is  provided  with  stiff  bristling  hairs  on  either  side;  by 
the  wing,  the  ten  primaries  of  which  are  of  full  length  and 
narrowed,  or  emarginate  near  the  end;  by  the  feet  and  legs, 
noticeably  small  and  weak  for  the  size  of  the  bird;  and  by  the 
voice,  which,  for  the  most  part,  is  harsh.  Solitary  in  their 
habits,  they  are  generally  brave,  and,  on  account  of  their 
strictly  insectivorous  habits,  are  very  useful. 

THE    OLIVE-SIDED    FLYCATCHER. 

Belonging  to  this  same  genus,  Contopus,  is  the  Olive-sided 
Flycatcher  (Contopus  borealis).  About  7.50  long,  hav- 
ing the  form  of  the  Wood  Pewee  and  the  color  of 
the  Common  Pewee,  or  Phoebe,  it  is  always  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  latter  by  its  light-colored  under 
mandible,  its  dark  olivaceous  sides,  a'nd  its  "  tuft  of  white, 


340  SMALL    GREEN-CRESTED   FLYCATCHER. 

fluffy  feathers  on  the  flank."  It  is  readily  distinguishable 
from  all  the  smaller  Flycatchers  by  its  greater  size.  Both 
in  structure  and  position,  its  nest  resembles  that  of  the  King- 
bird, but  its  eggs,  some  . 85 X. 65,  are  merely  an  enlarged 
pattern  of  those  of  the  Wood  Pewee.  As  its  name  indicates, 
this  bird  is  of  northern  habitat,  breeding  from  New  England 
to  high  latitudes.  Its  notes  and  habits  of  diet  are  those  of 
the  Flycatchers  in  general.  The  former  are  given  by  Nut- 
tall  as  "ehphebee"  or  "Kphebw"  in  a  whistling  tone  some- 
what guttural  at  the  commencement.  To  my  ear,  as  I 
listened  to  it  recently  in  Nova  Scotia,  it  sounded  like,/#/, 
pe-wee,  the  first  syllable  short  and  aspirated,  the  two  follow- 
ing drawn  out  in  loud,  clear,  whistling  tones. 

SMALL    GREEN-CRESTED    FLYCATCHER. 

In  a  shadowy  part  of  the  woods,  where  young  hemlocks 
are  thickly  interspersed,  I  hear  sharp,  quick  notes, pee-whee, 
quee-ree-ee,  which  I  at  once  recognize  as  those  of  the  Small 
Green-crested  Fly-catcher  (Empidonax  acadicus] ,  a  very  com- 
mon summer  resident  of  our  upland  woods.  I  look  sharply 
into  the  shadows  for  some  time  before  I  get  sight  of  it.  It 
is  perched  on  a  dead  limb,  near  the  base  of  a  small  hemlock; 
and  always  accompanies  its  note  with  a  quick  jerk  of  the 
tail.  Like  the  rest  of  the  Flycatchers,  it  sits  still  on  its 
perch  and  waits  for  its  prey;  and  when  that  prey  appears, 
be  it  beetle,  fly,  or  moth,  it  darts  quickly  after  it,  cutting  a 
smooth  curve,  which  is  sure  to  intercept  it,  and  seizing  it 
with  a  sharp  click  of  the  mandibles.  With  its  quick,  well- 
directed  movement,  the  broad  gape  of  its  deeply  cleft 
mouth  and  tangle  of  bristles  on  each  side  of  it,  there  is  but 
a  slim  chance  of  escape  for  its  victim. 

Some  six  inches  in  length,  the  crown  feathers  somewhat 
long  and  erected;  the  whole  upper  parts  fine  olive-green; 


SMALL   GREEN-CRESTED  FLYCATCHER.  341 

the  under  parts  yellowish-white,  with  an  ashy  tinge  on  the 
sides  and  across  the  breast;  tail  and  wings  dusky;  the  bars 
across  the  latter,  as  also  the  margins  of  the  secondaries  and 
tertiaries,  the  eye-lids  and  feathers  about  the  flank,  light 
greenish-yellow;  feet  and  upper  mandible,  deep  brown  or 
dusky;  under  mandible,  pale — this  bird  is  of  pleasing  ap- 
pearance— a  sprightly  and  cheerful  ornament  of  the  forest. 
There  is  nothing  about  it  which  wins  our  sympathy,  how- 
ever, as  do  the  sweet  plaintive  notes  and  the  elegant  nest 
of  the  Wood  Pewee. 

Its  nest,  rather  loose  and  rustic,  is  quite  unique.  Placed 
rather  low,  perhaps  from  five  to  nine  feet  from  the  ground, 
generally  on  the  limb  of  a  small  evergreen,  sometimes  in  a 
small  hard-wood  tree,  it  is  loosely  hung  by  the  sides  to  a 
more  or  less  fork-shaped  part  of  the  limb.  Some  three 
inches  or  more  in  external  diameter,  and  some  two  inches 
or  more  through,  it  is  loosely,  even  raggedly,  woven  of  the 
fine  spray  of  the  hemlock,  interspersed  with  grasses  and 
some  fibrous  bark,  or  principally  of  fine  grasses  interspersed 
with  the  hemlock  spray  and  bits  of  bark-fiber,  more  or  less 
fastened  together  throughout  with  a  fine  webby  or  downy 
material,  which  also  binds  it  to  the  forked  limb;  and  it  is 
ornamented  with  the  bud-scales  of  the  beech,  and  some- 
times with  its  dried  stamenate  blossoms.  The  inside,  some 
two  inches  across  and  rather  more  than  one  inch  in  depth, 
is  lined  with  fine  hemlock  spray,  or  fine  grasses,  or  both;  if 
principally  of  the  latter,  it  has  a  light  feathery  appear- 
ance. It  is  always  so  loosely  made  that  one  can  see  through 
it. 

The  eggs,  about  .75  X  .50,  are  cream  color,  and  sparsely 
specked  or  spotted  with  brown  about  the  larger  end  or  half. 
The  female  sits  very  closely;  sometimes  she  can  be  caught 
in  the  hand,  if  one  creeps  stealthily  under  the  nest;  some- 


342  THE  HOODED    WARBLER. 

times  she  will  defend  her  nest  most  persistently,  flying  at 
the  intruder  with  sharp  notes  and  a  snapping  of  the  bill. 

Rare  in  Southern  New  England,  and  scarcely  extending 
beyond  the  Mississippi,  the  principal  breeding  range  of 
acadicus  (geographically  a  false  name)  is  the  middle  dis- 
trict of  the  United  States. 

THE    HOODED    WARBLER. 

From  different  points  in  the  thick  woods  comes 
the  common  and  familiar  song  of  the  Hooded  War- 
bler (Mywdioctes  mitratus) — cheree-cheree-cheree-chi-di-ee,  the 
first  three  notes  with  a  loud  bell-like  ring,  and  the 
rest  in  very  much  accelerated  time,  and  with  the 
falling  inflection.  Arriving  early  in  May,  this  is  one  of 
our  common  summer  residents  throughout  the  dense 
upland  forests,  occupying  the  lower  story  of  the  woodland 
home,  while  the  Ccerulean  Warbler  occupies  the  upper. 
Here  let  me  say  that,  in  addition  to  its  alarm  note,  a  sharp 
whistling  or  metallic  chip,  which  is  very  clearly  character- 
ized, the  Hooded  Warbler  has  two  distinct  songs,  as  differ- 
ent as  if  coming  from  different  species.  Never  shall  I  for- 
get how  I  was  once  puzzled  by  this.  I  was  strolling  in  a 
thick  forest  near  the  corner  of  a  slashing  at  evening  twi- 
light, in  June,  when  I  was  surprised  by  a  strange  whistling 
melody — whee-ree-whee-ree-eeh,  with  a  marked  emphasis  on 
the  second  syllable,  and  a  still  more  marked  one  on  the 
last.  Part  of  the  time  this  utterance  was  somewhat  varied, 
a  few  notes  being  sometimes  added,  and  again  a  few  drop- 
ped. My  curiosity  was  greatly  excited,  for  I  had  supposed 
myself  familiar  with  the  sylvan  voices  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, but  it  soon  became  too  dark  to  identify  the  bird. 
For  nearly  a  week  I  went  to  that  spot  every  day,  always 
hearing  the  song,  but  never  being  able  to  get  a  clear  sight 


THE  HOODED    WARBLER.  343 

of  the  singer.  It  seemed  exceedingly  shy.  In  vain  did  I 
crawl  on  hands  and  knees  among  the  undergrowth  to  get 
near  to  it,  for  just  as  I  would  seem  about  to  gain  a  good 
view  of  it,  the  song  would  cease  at  the  point  under  obser- 
vation, and  come  from  one  more  distant.  Just  as  I  was 
about  to  give  the  matter  up,  one  evening,  down  came  the 
singer,  stage  by  stage,  through  the  thick  foliage,  and,  alight- 
ing within  a  few  feet  of  me  and  in  clear  sight,  gave  the 
full  effect  of  his  whistling  song.  I  have  since  heard  the 
same  song  a  number  of  times  and  in  different  places  from 
the  Hooded  Warbler.  So  I  conclude  that  in  the  case  of 
this  species  there  are,  occasionally  at  least,  two  distinct  and 
altogether  different  songs. 

Five  inches  or  a  little  more  in  length,  all  the  upper  parts  are 
of  a  fine  olivaceous-green,  all  the  under  parts  bright  yellow; 
the  two  outer  feathers  on  each  side  of  the  tail  are  white  nearly 
to  the  base;  a  jet-black  hood,  covering  the  crown  and  back 
of  the  head,  extending  along  the  sides  of  the  neck  around 
the  cheeks  and  completely  covering  the  foreneck  and 
throat — distinguishes  the  male.  The  sunlight  on  his  breast, 
the  hues  of  the  forest  on  his  back,  and  the  emblems  of 
mourning  about  his  head  as  he  peers  out  modestly  from 
among  the  foliage,  he  is  one  of  the  most  strikingly  beautiful 
of  all  our  large  and  elegant  family  of  Warblers.  The  female 
is  similar,  but  much  less  brilliant,  and  has  the  mere  outline 
of  the  black  hood. 

The  Hooded  Warbler  belongs  to  the  Flycatching  War- 
blers, the  bills  of  which  resemble  those  of  the  Flycatchers, 
but  in  regard  to  all  other  points,  especially  the  feet,  they 
are  true  Warblers.  The  flesh-colored  feet  and  legs  of  this 
bird  denote  that  it  is  a  Ground  Warbler;  that  is,  it  belongs 
to  those  Warblers  which  make  their  home  on  or  near  the 
ground.  Here  it  keeps  itself,  for  the  most  part,  well  con- 


344  WILSON'S  BLACK-CAP. 

cealed  among  the  foliage  of  the  thick  undergrowth,  having  a 
rather  slow  and  dignified  movement  for  a  bird  of  its  kind. 

It  builds  its  nest  from  a  foot  to  18  inches  from  the  ground, 
generally  in  the  upright  or  somewhat  leaning  fork  of  a 
little  bush.  I  once  found  it  in  a  beech  limb,  lying  on  the 
ground,  but  still  retaining  the  dry  leaves.  It  is  somewhat 
bulky,  but  quite  neat,  the  lower  part  being  of  dry  or  skele- 
ton leaves,  the  upper  part,  especially  the  high  and  well- 
defined  rim,  of  long  fibrous  bark,  as  that  of  the  grape-vine, 
ash,  bass-wood  or  elm,  laid  almost  as  nicely  as  coiled  cords, 
the  whole  structure  being  bound  together  by  a  webby 
material,  and  lined  with  fine  grasses,  bark-fibers  and  horse- 
hair. In  location,  material  and  structure,  it  is  quite  unique, 
and,  like  most  other  birds'  nests,  is  a  much  more  certain 
means  of  identification  than  the  eggs  themselves.  These, 
2-4,  varying  from  .63X.52  to  .Y5X.50,  are  clear  white,  deli- 
cately specked  and  spotted,  sometimes  even  blotched,  with 
reddish  brown  and  lilac.  In  form  and  coloration  the  eggs 
are'very  variable.  They  may  be  found  fresh  from  the  last 
week  in  May  till  the  middle  of  June.  A  second  set  may 
sometimes  be  found  in  July.  The  male  aids  in  incubation. 

Confined  to  the  eastern  part  of  the  United  States, 
and  barely  entering  the  southern  part  of  New  England, 
Western  and  Central  New  York,  where  it  is  quite  common, 
must  be  about  the  northern  limit  of  this  species. 

WILSON'S  BLACK-CAP. 

Wilson's  Black-cap  (Myiodioctes  pusillus],  regarded  as 
closely  related  to  the  above  species,  appears  here  occasion- 
ally as  a  migrant.  Mr.  Bruce,  of  Brockport,  New  York, 
once  saw  a  large  flock  actively  gleaning  insects  in  a  row  of 
willow  trees,  about  the  middle  of  May.  I  have  known  one, 
also,  to  be  taken  in  Western  New  York;  but  I  have  never 


THE  LEAST  PEWEE.  345 

seen  it  myself.  Mr.  Smith  gives  it  as  a  migrant  through 
Maine,  but  not  common;  and  Mr.  Chamberlain  reports  it  as 
an  uncommon  summer  resident  in  New  Brunswick.  Audu- 
bon  found  it  breeding  commonly  in  Labrador,  the  nest 
being  "placed  on  the  extremity  of  a  small  horizontal 
branch,  amongst  the  thick  foliage  of  dwarf  firs,  not  more 
than  from  3-5  feet  from  the  ground,  and  in  the  center  of  the 
thickets  of  these  trees,  so  common  in  Labrador.  The  mate- 
rials of  which  it  is  composed  are  bits  of  dry  moss  and 
delicate  pine  twigs,  agglutinated  together  and  to  the 
branches  or  leaves  around  it,  beneath  which  it  is  sus- 
pended; the  lining  is  of  extremely  fine  and  transparent 
fibers.  The  greatest  diameter  does  not  exceed  3%  inches, 
and  the  depth  is  not  more  than  1^.  The  eggs  are  4,  dull 
white,  sprinkled  with  reddish  and  brown  dots  toward  the 
larger  end,  where  the  markings  form  a  circle,  leaving  the 
extremity  plain."  Mr.  Allen  found  the  Black-cap  "  a  com- 
mon inhabitant  of  the  sub-alpine  and  alpine  districts  in  the 
Colorado  Mountains,  breeding  from  about  8,000  feet  up  to 
about  the  timber  line."  Dr.  Coues  found  it  a  common 
summer  resident  in  the  mountainous  districts  of  Arizona 
from  May  to  September.  Neither  of  them,  however,  found 
the  nest.  Small;  length,  4.60;  stretch,  7.00;  bill  much 
feathered,  after  the  manner  of  the  Flycatchers;  the  color, 
yellowish-green  above,  becoming  brownish  on  wing  and 
tail;  forehead,  sides  of  the  head  and  under  parts,  bright 
yellow;  the  black  patch  on  the  crown  being  less  extended  in 
the  female,  and  wanting  in  the  young.  The  food  is  taken 
on  the  wing  with  a  click  of  the  bill,  also  after  the  manner  of 
the  Flycatchers. 

THE    LEAST    PEWEE. 

As  I  approach  the  edge  of  the  woods  on  a  rather  low  spot 
of  ground,    I   hear   the   unmistakable   notes   of  the   Least 


346  THE    YELLOW-BELLIED  FLYCATCHER. 

Pewee  (Empidonax  minimus] — sewick,  sewick,  written  by  some 
"chebec" — quickly  and  sharply  uttered.  It  has  been  here 
for  two  weeks  or  more.  About  the  color  of  the  common 
Phcebe  (Sayornis  fusctts),  only  a  little  grayer  about  the 
head,  and  scarcely  more  than  five  inches  long,  it  is  much 
smaller  than  the  rest  of  our  Flycatchers;  and,  not  to  speak 
of  its  peculiar  notes,  has  a  nest  wholly  unlike  that  of  any 
of  them,  and  eggs  which  never  can  be  mistaken  for  those 
of  any  other  bird  in  our  locality;  and  yet,  numerous  as  it  is 
throughout  the  Eastern  United  States,  neither  Audubon 
nor  Wilson  distinguished  it.  It  is  very  common  here,  par- 
ticularly in  thickets,  the  borders  of  the  low-land  forests, 
and  the  more  open  swamps.  The  nest,  generally  placed 
out  of  reach,  sometimes  fifteen  feet  or  upward  from  the 
ground,  commonly  in  the  top  fork  of  a  small  tree  or  sap- 
ling, sometimes  on  a  horizontal  limb,  is  neat  and  very  closely 
compacted,  composed  outwardly  of  wood  or  bark-fibers, 
sometimes  well  intermixed  and  ornamented  with  vegetable 
down,  and  lined  with  fine  fibers  of  bark,  fine  grasses  and 
vegetable  down  in  general,  sometimes  with  fine  feathers. 
The  entire  nest  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  that  of  the 
Redstart.  The  eggs,  three  or  four,  from  .60  or  .65X.50,  are 
pure  white.  "Breeds  abundantly  from  Southern  New 
England  northward."  (Coues.)  Eggs  are  found  here  late  in 
May  or  early  in  June. 

THE   YELLOW-BELLIED    FLYCATCHER. 

I  have  also  taken  the  Yellow-bellied  Pewee  (Empidonax 
flaviventris),  here  in  Orleans  County  late  in  May.  As  it 
ranges  throughout  North  America  and  breeds  from  the 
Middle  States  northward,  it  probably  breeds  here.  About 
5.50  long,  and  olive-green  above,  it  is  readily  distin- 
guishable by  its  bright  yellow  under  parts.  The  ring 


TR  A  ILL'S  FLYCATCHER.  347 

around  the  eye,  the  lower  mandible,  and  the  bars  across  the 
wing-coverts  are  also  yellow.  Its  note  is  said  to  be  a  "  low 
pe-a"  and  its  so-called  song  is  said  to  sound  like  the  sylla- 
bles killick,  repeated  at  rather  long  intervals.  As  to  the 
nest  and  eggs  of  this  species,  authors  have  been  quite  con- 
fused; some  reporting  them  pure  white  and  others  spotted; 
but  a  nest  examined  by  Messrs.  Deane  and  Pardie,  on  the 
18th  of  June,  1878,  was  quite  conclusive.  It  was  placed  in 
the  upturned  roots  of  a  tree;  and  "a  large  dwelling  it  was 
for  so  small  and  trim  a  bird.  Built  in  and  on  to  the  black 
mud  clinging  to  the  roots,  but  two  feet  from  the  ground, 
the  bulk  of  the  nest  was  composed  of  dry  moss,  while  the 
outside  was  faced  with  beautiful  fresh-green  mosses,  thickest 
around  the  rim  or  parapet.  The  home  of  the  Bridge  Pe- 
wee  (Sayorms  fuscus)  was  at  once  suggested.  But  no  mud 
entered  into  the  actual  composition  of  the  nest,  though  at 
first  we  thought  so,  so  much  was  clinging  to  it  when  re- 
moved. The  lining  was  mainly  of  fine  black  rootlets,  with 
a  few  pine-needles  and  grass-stems.  *  *  *  The  eggs, 
four  in  number,  were  perfectly  fresh,  rounded-oval  in  shape, 
and  of  a  beautiful  rosy-white  tint,  well  spotted  with  a  light 
reddish  shade  of  brown."  An  elegant  nest,  sent  me  from 
Nova  Scotia  by  Mr.  Wagner,  is  made  of  fine  dried  grasses, 
arranged  in  a  bunch  of  moss.  The  four  white  eggs,  some 
.71  X.50,  are  beautifully  specked,  spotted,  and  even  blotched 
about  the  large  end  with  light  red.  The  nest  was  taken 
from  the  ground  with  fresh  eggs  the  15th  of  June. 

TRAILL'S  FLYCATCHER. 

Another  Flycatcher  about  our  low  lands  and  swamps,  and 
especially  along  streams  in  such  places,  is  Traill's  Flycatcher 
(Empidonax  trailing.  About  six  inches  long,  or  sometimes  a 
little  less,  it  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the  small  Green- 


348  COOPER'S  HA  WK. 

crested  Flycatcher  by  the  darker  olive  of  the  upper  parts,  and 
from  the  Yellow-bellied  Flycatcher  by  its  entire  lack  of  the 
bright  yellow  beneath,  as  well  as  by  the  absence  of  the 
clear  greenish  tinge  so  distinctive  in  the  upper  parts  of  the 
latter.  Its  voice,  habit  of  location,  and  also  the  structure 
of  its  nest,  differentiate  it  very  clearly.  Its  ordinary  note 
is  a.  pip  or  chip,  and  what  is  sometimes  called  its  song  has 
been  written  che-bee-u.  Indeed,  a  careful  study  of  the  more 
prominent  notes  of  the  smaller  Flycatchers  will  distinguish 
them  all. 

The  nest,  which,  according  to  the  local  habit  of  the  bird, 
is  in  some  swampy  region,  is  placed  in  the  upright  fork  of 
a  bush  or  sapling,  is  quite  compact,  and  externally  bears 
indeed  no  small  resemblance  to  that  of  the  Yellow  Warbler, 
except  that  it  is  a  little  larger.  The  outside  is  of  gray  fi- 
brous material,  intermixed  with  the  bleached  blades  of  dried 
grasses;  the  inside  is  of  fine  dried  grasses,  closely  laid,  and 
the  whole  structure  is  more  or  less  mixed  with  vegetable 
down.  As  is  the  case  with  most  Flycatchers,  the  interior 
of  the  nest  is  large  for  the  size  of  the  bird.  The  eggs, 
commonly  three,  some . 68  x -50,  are  creamy  white,  the  larger 
half  being  more  or  less  spotted  and  specked  with  reddish- 
brown. 

Wintering  in  the  tropics,  Traill's  Flycatcher  finds  its 
breeding  habitat  in  the  Eastern  United  States  and  the 
British  Provinces,  reaching  the  latter  during  the  latter  half 

of  May. 

COOPER'S   HAWK. 

In  the  top  of  a  tall  beech  tree,  I  discover  a  hawk's  nest, 
and  while  I  am  querying  whether  it  be  new  or  old,  the 
female  of  Cooper's  Hawk  (Acctpiter  cooperi}  alights  on  a 
limb  near  the  nest,  and  presently  drops  into  it.  At  the  same 
time  I  see  a  friend  passing  along  the  winter  road  near 


COOPER'S  HA  WK.  349 

by,  carrying  a  fine  rifle.  He  is  a  good  marksman,  so  I 
beckon  him  to  my  assistance.  As  I  strike  on  the  trunk  of 
the  tree  the  bird  leaves  the  nest,  and  my  friend  takes  her 
on  the  wing.  Down  she  comes,  so  gradually  that  she  almost 
appears  as  if  alighting,  and  skimming  along  near  the  ground 
for  some  distance,  finally  drops,  squealing  loudly  enough 
to  alarm  the  whole  feathered  tribe  in  the  neighborhood. 
As  I  approach  her,  she  defends  herself  with  the  heroism  of 
a  true  Hawk.  The  bullet  has  passed  through  her  thigh, 
shattering  the  bone  thoroughly,  and  the  two  outer  pinions 
of  one  wing  are  cut  away.  But  why  should  this  simple 
shattering  of  the  thigh  bring  down  so  strong  a  bird  so 
readily  ?  The  explanation  is  to  be  found  in  the  peculiar 
anatomy  of  the  bird.  In  1761,  Peter  Camper,  a  distinguished 
Dutch  anatomist,  discovered  that  the  cavities  in  the  bones 
of  birds,  which  Gabbe  had  already  observed  to  contain  no 
marrow,  were  in  direct  communication  with  the  lungs,  and 
so  participated  in  respiration.  In  1774,  John  Hunter,  the 
great  English  comparative  anatomist,  verified  the  same  in  his 
marvelous  researches  into  the  anatomy  of  birds.  Extending 
their  investigations  in  the  most  able  manner  throughout  the 
entire  class  of  birds,  they  discovered  that  "  the  air-cells  and 
lungs  can  be  inflated  from  the  bones,  and  Hunter  injected 
the  medullary  cavities  of  the  bones  from  the  trachea.  If 
the  femur" — the  thigh  bone — " into  which  the  air  is  admitted  be 
broken,  the  bird  is  unable  to  raise  itself  in  flight.  If  the  trachea 
be  tied  and  an  opening  be  made  into  the  humerus" — the  up- 
per wing-bone — "  the  bird  will  respire  by  that  opening  for 
a  short  period,  and  may  be  killed  by  inhaling  noxious  gases 
through  it.  If  an  air-bone  of  a  living1  bird,  similarly  per- 
forated, be  held  in  water,  bubbles  will  rise  from  it,  and  a 
motion  of  the  contained  air  will  be  exhibited,  synchronous 
with  the  motions  of  inspiration  and  expiration. 


350  COOPER'S  HAWK. 

11  The  proportion  in  which  the  skeleton  is  permeated  by 
air  varies  in  different  birds.  In  the  Alca  impennis,  the  Pen- 
guins (Aptenodytes)  and  the  Apteryx,  air  is  not  admitted  into 
any  of  the  bones.  The  condition  of  the  osseous  system, 
therefore,  which  all  birds  present  at  the  early  periods  of  ex- 
istence, is  here  retained  through  life. 

"In  the  large  Struthious  Birds,  which  are  remarkable  for 
the  rapidity  of  their  course,  the  thigh-bones  and  bones  of 
the  pelvis,  the  vertebral  column,  ribs,  sternum  and  scapular 
arch,  the  cranium  and  lower  jaw,  have  all  air  admitted  into 
their  cavities  or  cancellous  structure.  In  the  Ostrich  the 
Jmmeri  and  other  bones  of  the  wings,  the  tibia  and  distal 
bones  of  the  legs,  retain  their  marrow.  Most  birds  of  flight 
have  air  admitted  into  the  humerus ;  the  Woodcock  and 
Snipe  are  exceptions.  The  Pigeon  tribe,  with  the  exception 
of  the  Crown  Pigeon,  have  no  air  in  the  femur,  which  re- 
tains its  marrow.  In  the  Owls  also  the  femur  is  filled  with 
marrow;  but  in  the  Diurnal  Birds  of  prey,  as  in  almost 
all  other  birds  of  flight,  the  femur  is  filled  with  air.  In  the 
Pelican  and  Gannet  the  air  enters  all  the  bones  with  the 
exception  of  the  phalanges  of  the  toes.  In  the  Hornbill 
even  these  are  permeated  by  air."* 

My  specimen  of  Cooper's  Hawk  is  one  of  the  largest, 
some  20  inches  long.  She  is  sometimes  scarcely  more  than  18 
inches  long,  while  the  male  is  never  more  than  18,  and  may  not 
exceed  16  inches  in  length.  This  species,  which  in  structure 
and  color  is  almost  precisely  like  that  of  the  Sharp-shinned 
Hawk,  being,  however,  unmistakably  larger,  makes  with  it, 
and  it  only  in  this  country,  a  strongly  marked  genus,  the 
Accipiter — the  distinctive  generic  points  being:  1st,  that  the 
feathers  extend  but  slightly  down  the  tarsus;  2d,  that  the 
toes  are  long  and  very  slender,  much  webbed  at  the  base, 

*  Comparative  Anatomy  and  Physiology  of  Vertebrates,  by  Richard  Owen,  Vol.   1,  pp. 
213,  214. 


CO OPER'  S  HA  WK.  351 

and  thickly  padded;  3d,  that  the  fourth  primary  is  longest, 
the  "second  shorter  than  the  sixth,"  and  the  first  noticeably 
short;  4th,  the  soft  and  finely  blended  character  of  the 
colors  above,  in  maturity  —  being  a  fine  ashy-brown,  black- 
ish on  the  head.  The  under  parts  of  both  birds  are  white, 
with  fine  cross-streaks  of  light-reddish.  They  bear  about 
the  same  relation  to  each  other  as  that  of  the  Hairy  to  the 
Downy  Woodpecker.  Cooper's  Hawk  is  especially  a  bird 
of  the  United  States,  most  common  in  the  Northern  States, 
and  extending  but  slightly  into  the  British  Provinces.  The 
Sharp-shinned  Hawk  is  sometimes  found  here  in  winter, 
but  Cooper's  Hawk  goes  farther  south.  Early  in  May  is 
the  time  for  the  nidification  of  the  latter  in  this  locality. 
The  nest,  in  the  crotch  of  a  tall  tree,  or  where  several  limbs 
join  the  trunk,  always  very  high,  is  built  of  sticks  and  lined 
with  dry  grass,  or  strips  of  bark,  sometimes  containing 
feathers,  the  depression  being  but  slight.  The  eggs,  3  or  4, 
sometimes  5,  about  1.90  x  1.50,  are  white,  greenish  or 
grayish  tinged,  often  clear,  sometimes  slightly  blotched 
with  dark  drab  or  brown.  Mr.  Samuels  mentions  a  pair 
robbed  of  their  eggs  four  times  in  the  same  season.  "  They 
built  different  nests  in  the  same  grove,  and  laid  in  the  four 
litters,  four,  five,  and  three  eggs,  respectively.  The  eggs 
of  the  last  litter  were  very  small,  but  little  larger  than 
those  of  the  Sharp-shinned  Hawk." 

The  ordinary  flight  of  this  bird  is  rapid  and  straight- 
forward, the  regular  strokes  of  the  wings  being  frequently 
relieved  by  sailing.  In  the  mating  season,  when  it  is  very 
noisy,  having  a  note  which  sounds  like  chee-e-e-ah,  I  have 
seen  it,  high  in  air,  above  the  tops  of  the  tallest  trees,  shoot- 
ing toward  one  of  its  kind  whose  voice  it  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance, with  half-closed  and  perfectly  motionless  wings,  and 
with  a  rocket-like  speed  and  a  gracefulness  which  no 


352  THE   SHARP- SHINNED  HAWK. 

language  could  describe.  In  pursuit  of  its  prey,  which  may 
consist  of  small  quadrupeds,  the  smaller  ducks  and  waders, 
grouse,  and  the  larger  kinds  of  the  common  land-birds,  it 
moves  with  great  spirit  and  adroitness,  and  seldom  misses 
its  quarry.  So  well  known  is  it  in  the  poultry  yard  that  it 
is  called  the  "Chicken  Hawk."  When  reared  from  the  nest 
it  becomes  so  thoroughly  domesticated  as  to  need  no  con- 
finement. 

THE    SHARP-SHINNED    HAWK. 

The  Sharp-shinned  Hawk  (Accipiter  fuscus],  in  every  way 
so  similar  to  Cooper's  Hawk,  is  some  12  inches  long;  brown 
or  slate-colored  above,  with  a  few  white  spots  on  the  back 
of  the  head  and  on  the  scapulars;  tail  also  brown  or 
ashy,  but  considerably  lighter,  with  fine  dark  bands  across 
it,  sometimes  tipped  with  whitish;  the  white  under  parts 
closely  and  narrowly  barred  with  reddish;  throat,  narrowly 
streaked  lengthwise  with  brown.  Its  nest  is  similarly  placed 
to  that  of  the  former  species,  only  not  so  high  up  in  the 
tree,  but  is  occasionally  placed  on  a  rock.  The  eggs,  some 
4,  are  about  1.40  x  1.20,  roundish,  clear  white,  or  perhaps 
slightly  tinged  with  blue  or  green,  heavily  and  distinctly 
marked  —  patched  —  with  brown. 

This  Hawk  reaches  Western  New  York  the  latter  part  of 
April,  and  its  eggs  are  laid  early  in  May.  It  is  readily  dis- 
tinguished by  its  short,  broad  wings,  and  rather  nervous 
and  irregular  flight;  but  it  moves  rapidly,  and  sometimes 
with  great  impetuosity,  so  that  it  has  been  known  to  pass 
through  several  glass  partitions  of  a  green-house.  Seizing 
its  prey  on  the  wing,  in  the  manner  of  a  true  Hawk,  it  dashes 
after  it  with  the  utmost  directness,  moving  high  or  low,  to 
the  right  or  left,  as  if  by  some  continuous  attraction.  With 
an  unerring  stroke,  it  wounds  fatally  in  the  very  act  of 
capture,  and  then  bears  its  prey  to  a  tree,  to  be  devoured  at 


THE   SHARP-SHINNED  HAWK.  353 

leisure.  In  addition  to  the  small  birds  thus  taken  on  the 
wing,  it  may  pounce  on  one  larger  and  heavier  than  itself, 
or  it  may  swoop  down  upon  the  small  quadrupeds,  or,  after 
the  manner  of  the  smaller  Hawks  in  general,  make  its  repast 
even  on  insects.  As  with  birds  of  prey  in  general,  the  surest 
way  of  escaping  its  clutches  is  by  soaring;  the  thickets,  into 
which  the  smaller  birds  generally  dive  when  pursued, 
affording  but  little  obstruction  to  its  penetrating  flight.  Its 
note,  which  is  but  seldom  heard,  is  sharp  and  shrill. 
Ranging  over  all  North  America,  it  may  be  found  in  New 
York  and  Massachusetts  during  mild  winters. 


23 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

BIRDS  AROUND  THE  HOUSE. 

ON  a  beautiful  sunny  morning,  the  16th  of  May,  I  am 
watching  the  birds  and  listening  to  them  from  my  study 
window.  From  the  apple  trees  and  the  currant  bushes  in 
the  garden  comes  the  voluble  and  sprightly  song  of  the 
Common  Wren  {Troglodytes  aedon).  Of  all  the  songs  of 
birds  within  the  range  of  our  acquaintance,  there  is  no  mel- 
ody more  gushing,  more  sparkling,  more  full  of  the  very 
soul  of  vital  energy,  than  the  warbling,  twittering  perform- 
ance of  this  most  active  and  industrious  little  creature.  If 
the  syllables  have  not  that  measured  cadence,  nor  the  tones 
that  heart-searching  vibration,  which  move  one  to  melan- 
choly or  to  joy,  to  prayer  or  to  praise,  it  touches  the  nerves 
with  a  startling  impulse,  like  the  gust  of  the  summer  wind 
shaking  the  leaves,  the  patter  of  rain  on  the  roof,  or  the 
streaming  of  sunshine  through  a  rift  of  the  clouds.  How 
much  quicker  my  thoughts  move  after  that  trill  from  the 
garden  wall,  and  how  suggestive  is  each  note  of  its  repeti- 
tion !  Now  he  mounts  a  hitching-post,  in  full  view,  in  the 
adjoining  church-yard,  and  the  sight  of  him  is  almost  as 
animating  as  his  voice.  The  tail,  which  drooped  during 
his  song,  is  immediately  thrown  up  and  forward  as  it  ceases; 
he  twists  and  turns  upon  his  nimble  feet  as  if  on  a  swivel 
or  pivot,  that  can  let  him  up  and  down  and  around  in  every 
direction  ;  his  sharp  bill  signals  every  point  of  the  com- 


THE   COMMON    WREN.  355 

pass,  and  his  tiny,  sparkling  eye  seems  to  take  in  every 
object. 

Now  he  drops  from  the  post,  and  flying  low,  with  a  steady 
flutter  of  his  short,  round  wings,  he  dives  into  a  thicket  of 
rose  bushes.  Here  he  slides  up  and  down  the  stems  like  an 
automaton,  peers  under  the  leaves  with  every  conceivable 
twist  of  the  neck,  and  runs  on  the  ground,  darting  in  and 
out  of  rubbish  with  the  quickness  and  penetration  of  a 
mouse. 

The  great  variety  and  abundance  of  his  insect  food, 
whether  gleaned  amidst  the  thick  foliage,  drawn  from 
chinks  and  crevices,  or  captured  on  the  wing,  is  taken  so 
adroitly  that  only  the  close  observer  can  comprehend  the 
important  services  of  this  restless  and  diminutive  species 
in  subduing  these  pests  of  the  house  and  garden.  Alas, 
that  man,  that  lord  of  creation,  should  eat  his  currants,  his 
cabbage'  and  his  lettuce,  all  unconscious  of  how  much  the 
birds  have  saved  for  him  ! 

Presently  I  hear  the  Wren  again,  and  in  altogether  another 
part  of  the  garden.  This  time  he  is  not  a  singer  but  a 
scold.  How  angry  is  his  chirp,  as  he  berates  that  white  cat, 
which,  standing  fair  in  front  of  his  retreat  in  the  blackberry 
bushes,  ogles  him  with  her  green  fire-balls,  and  moves  the 
end  of  her  tail  in  signal  of  the  murder-prepense  in  her  heart. 
But  this  wee  Wren  is  one  of  the  bravest  of  birds,  and  is 
always  so  well  on  the  alert  that  Grimalkin  soon  gives  up  in 
despair,  and  concludes  to  suffer  alike  the  mortification  of 
the  scolding  and  the  disappointment  of  the  stomach. 

Having  been  quite  curious  as  to  the  nesting  of  this  Wren, 
which  has  come  so  regularly  to  these  premises  for  years,  I 
go  out  into  the  yard  and  watch  his  movements.  There,  he 
has  taken  a  spider  from  that  web  in  the  apple-tree  and  has  dis- 
appeared under  the  horse-sheds  back  of  the  church.  Conclud- 


356  THE   COMMON    WREN. 

ing  that  his  nest  is  somewhere  in  that  structure,  I  hide  away 
and  watch.  In  a  few  moments  he  flits  down  and  drops  into  a 
rather  loose  mortise-joint,  where  a  brace  enters  a  post.  The 
entrance  is  very  small,  but  there  is  quite  a  space  inside. 
Having  examined  any  considerable  number  of  nests,  one 
can  conceive  the  contents  and  arrangement  of  such  a  cavity 
without  access  to  it.  However  large  the  space,  it  will  be 
well  filled  up  with  rough,  crooked  twigs,  leaving  a  bristling 
and  irregular  passage  barely  large  enough  to  admit  the  tiny 
occupant,  which  passage  leads  to  the  nest,  ensconced  away 
in  the  remotest  corner.  The  nest  proper  is  composed  of 
dried  grasses  well  laid,  and  is  well  lined  with  hair  and 
feathers.  The  variety  of  cavities  appropriated  for  a  nest 
by  this  pertinacious  little  bird  is  beyond  account — the  bird- 
box,  the  holes  about  the  house-cornice,  a  hole  in  a  post  or 
in  an  old  apple-tree,  the  mucl  dwelling  of  the  Have  Swallow, 
the  inside  of  a  log-pump,  the  pocket  or  sleeve  of  an  old 
coat  hanging  in  an  out-building,  an  old  hat  with  rent  crown 
stuck  up  against  the  wall,  the  brain-cavity  of  a  horse's  skull 
mounted  on  a  stake — in  short,  any  cavity  into  which  suffi- 
cient material  of  the  proper  kind  can  be  stowed  and  arranged 
for  a  breeding  tenement.  A  nest  once  found  in  the  clothes- 
line box  of  Professor  Ware,  of  Cambridge,  Massachusetts, 
and  which  has  attained  classic  fame,  filled  a  space  "  consid- 
erably more  than  a  foot  square,"  and  consisted  of  "the  exuvia 
of  a  snake  several  feet  in  length,  large  twigs,  pieces  of  India- 
rubber  suspenders,  oak  leaves,  feathers,  pieces  of  shavings, 
hair,  hay,  etc.,  etc." 

With  what  boldness  and  pugnacity  this  Wren  will  drive 
the  gentle  Bluebird,  or  the  large  Black  Martin  from  his  box; 
how  he  will  dislodge  the  Eave  Swallow  from  his  jug-nosed 
tenement;  thus  taking  possession  of  the  rightful  home  of 
another,  on  which  he  has  no  claim  whatever;  and  how  he 


.THE  EAVE   SWALLOW.  357 

will  contend  for  his  premises  with  those  of  his  own  kind, 
is  familiar  to  all  who  know  him. 

The  eggs  of  this  species,  some  half-dozen  or  upward, 
about  .60X-48,  are  a  delicate  flesh  color,  very  finely  specked 
and  sprayed  all  over  with  reddish-brown,  thickening  into  a 
wreath  or  large  spot  at  the  large  end. 

About  five  inches  long,  this  Wren  is  deep  brown,  crossed 
with  bars  of  black  above,  the  head  and  neck  being  plain; 
the  throat  and  breast  are  buff,  or  a  light  clay  color;  belly 
and  vent  white,  spotted  with  brown  and  black;  the  tail, 
which  is  much  longer  than  that  of  the  Winter  Wren — about 
two  inches — is  brown,  crossed  with  lines  of  black;  the  feet 
are  flesh  color. 

Wintering  in  the  Southern  States,  this  species'  ranges 
throughout  the  Eastern  States,  west  to  Nebraska  and  Da- 
kota, and  north  somewhat  into  the  British  Provinces, 
becoming  rare  already  in  Northern  New  England. 

THE    EAVE    SWALLOW. 

As  I  look  up  into  the  cloudless  sky  I  am  impressed  with 
its  great  depth  and  transparency.  If  I  believed  in  the  old 
Ptolemaic  theory  of  separate  crystalline  spheres,  or  hollow 
globes,  in  which  the  various  planets,  including  the  sun  and  the 
fixed  stars  as  a  system,  were  severally  set,  each  sphere  revolv- 
ing with  its  own  velocity,  I  should  think  that  some  mystic 
power  in  the  air  had  been  very  thoroughly  at  work,  and  had 
newly  cleansed  and  polished  these  transparent  spheres 
throughout.  Against  this  clear  deep,  multitudes  of  Eave 
or  Cliff  Swallows  (Petrochelidon  lunifrons]  are  describing 
their  elegant  flight.  This  species,  and  the  family  it  repre- 
sents, are  in  the  strictest  sense  ''birds  of  the  air,"  since 
they  spend  nearly  all  their  time  in  that  region.  Their  small 
weak  feet,  long  pointed  wings  and  great  nervous 


358  THE  EAVE   SWALLOW. 

energy  are  all  in  constitutional  harmony  with  this  fact. 
There  is  a  language  of  motion  as  well  as  of  sound;  hence, 
like  a  strain  in  music,  the  flight  of  each  bird  conveys  its 
peculiar  idea.  There  is  majesty  in  the  soaring  of  the 
Eagle,  alarm  in  the  whir-r-r-r  of  the  Partridge,  haste  in  the 
whistling  strokes  of  the  Duck,  joy  in  the  exulting  curves  of 
the  Goldfinch,  and  a  happy  contentment  in  the  easy  gyra- 
tions of  the  Swallow.  My  mind  goes  into  repose,  and 
drinks  in  the  sweet  spirit  of  contentment,  defying  galling 
burdens  and  corrosive  cares,  as  my  eye  follows  the  spirit- 
like  sweep  of  those  sabre-shaped  wings,  each  curve  describ- 
ing a  happy  thought  on  the  sunny  sky. 

And  what  a  study  might  there  be  of  marvelous  adjust- 
ment and  conformity  to  mechanical  laws,  by  which  this 
little  creature  makes  its  way  through  the  trackless  air  with 
such  nice  accuracy,  that  it  can  "pick  up  a  flying  gnat  " 
whilst  moving  " at  the  rate  of  more  than  a  hundred  miles 
an  hour."  Or  who  can  conceive  how  many  tickling  and 
prickling  annoyances  of  insect-life  are  prevented  for  us, 
during  the  long  summer  days,  by  the  semi-domestic  services 
of  these  Swallows,  each  one  of  which  probably  destroys  at 
least  a  thousand  insects  every  day. 

For  some  time  it  has  been  a  question  with  ornithologists 
whether  the  Eave  Swallow  gradually  extended  its  habitat 
from  Mexico  through  North  America,  as  it  was  formerly 
believed.  The  very  best  authorities  now  conclude  that  it 
has  always  been  "  amenable  to  the  ordinary  laws  of  migra- 
tion and  spread  over  nearly  all  of  North  America,  the  South 
Atlantic  States,  perhaps,  excepted; "  and  that  "  the  numerous 
recorded  dates  of  its  appearance  and  breeding  in  particular 
localities  merely  mark  the  times  when  the  birds  forsook 
their  natural  breeding  places  and  built  under  eaves,  which 
enabled  them  to  pass  the  summer  where  fortnerly  they  were 


THE  EAVE   SWALLOW.  359 

unable  to  breed  "for  want  of  suitable  accommodations." 
(Coues.)  In  the  great  canons  of  the  west,  along  the  vertical 
walls  beneath  shelving  rocks,  sometimes  where  great  rivers 
rush  between  frowning  battlements,  the  strange,  bottle- 
shaped  nests  of  this  species,  according  to  its  primitive  style, 
are  hung  by  thousands  in  the  most  fantastic  arrangements. 
Among  all  our  birds  none  has  discovered  so  great  an  incli- 
nation to  accommodate  itself  to  man,  and  to  avail  itself 
of  the  advantages  of  civilization,  as  the  various  species  of 
the  Swallow.  The  Purple  Martin  abandons  the  holes  in 
trees  and  takes  up  his  abode  in  almost  any  convenience 
about  human  habitations;  the  Fork-tailed  Swallow  has 
abandoned  the  trees  of  the  forest  and  the  caves,  for  the 
rafters  and  peaks  of  the  barn,  and  so  has  received  the 
name,  Barn-swallow;  the  White-bellied  Swallow  is  inclined 
to  leave  his  hollow  stump  for  a  hole  in  the  wall;  the  so-called 
Chimney  Swallow,  or  Swift,  has  left  the  hollow  trees 
formerly  appropriated,  and  will  rather  endure  the  daily 
smoke  of  the  chimney  than  leave  the  neighborhood  of  man; 
even  the  Sand  Martin  has  shown  some  inclination  to  take 
to  cavities  under  the  bridge,  and  so  join  the  thoroughfare 
of  man,  rather  than  remain  in  the  banks  of  lonely  streams; 
and  how  the  Eave  Swallows  will  swell  their  colonies  from 
year  to  year  under  those  eaves  which  afford  a  convenience, 
every  one  has  had  opportunity  to  note.  This  tenement  of 
mud  is  a  very  artistic  thing  of  its  kind.  The  swell  of  the 
main  part,  the  narrowing  jug-nosed  entrance,  so  exactly 
rounded,  and  the  well  cemented  pellets  of  mud,  giving  the 
external  surface  such  a  neat,  pebbly  appearance,  are  all 
entirely  beyond  human  imitation,  as  I  fully  satisfied  myself 
by  many  experiments  in  the  days  of  my  childhood.  How 
cozy  it  looks  up  there  under  the  broad  eaves.  Soft  bits  of 
hay  and  an  abundance  of  down  are  there,  to  accommo- 


360  THE  EAVE   SWALLOW. 

date  the  frail  eggs  and  the  tender  young.  What  sweet 
peace  reigns  in  that  little  household!  What  a  world  of 
domestic  comfort  discovers  itself  in  that  soft  musical  chat- 
ter, so  much  like  animated  conversation!  What  are  those 
little  hearts  saying  to  each  other,  up  there  away  from  all  the 
rest  of  the  world?  Surely  no  burdened  spirit  is  carried  into 
the  air  from  that  household.  But  woe  to  the  intruder  who 
may  be  found  within  the  sacred  precincts  when  the  parent 
returns;  and  this  sometimes  occurs  in  fresh-made  nests  by 
pilferers  who  are  too  lazy  to  travel  for  material  for  their 
own  domiciles.  After  a  few  notes  of  astonishment  and 
warning,  uttered  in  harsh  syllables,  the  offender  is  uncere- 
moniously thrust  out,  and,  held  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck, 
dangles  awkwardly  in  the  air  for  several  seconds,  being 
finally  allowed  to  escape  with  a  volume  of  execrations.* 

What  happy  playful  creatures  are  the  members  of  this 
extremely  peaceful  colony.  Many  a  sport  do  they  enjoy, 
unnoticed  by  the  busy  and  inobservant  owner  of  the  premi- 
ses. See  them  play  with  that  feather  floating  like  a  thistle- 
down in  the  air!  One  seizes  it  in  one  of  his  exact  curves, 
and  carries  it  up  many  feet,  simply  to  drop  it  for  his  com- 
rade, who  again  snatches  it  as  it  nears  the  ground,  and  ele- 
vates it  for  the  pleasure  of  the  next  neighbor  who  catches  it  in 
like  manner.  Thus  the  feather  is  a  plaything  for  the  whole 
company  in  turn,  just  as  boys  would  use  a  ball  or  a  shuttle- 
cock; and  their  merriment  of  chat  and  laughter  is  equal  to 
that  of  the  happiest  and  most  animated  human  voices. 

Those  rosy  eggs  with  specks  of  brown,  scarcely  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  litters  hung  to  the  rafters  inside,  are 
incubated  by  both  sexes;  and  when  the  young  are  out  of 
the  shell,  the  parents  skim  the  air  most  assiduously  to 

*  The  European  House  Martin  has  been  known  to  close  up  the  entrance,  and  so  imprison 
the  Common  Sparrow  of  the  Old  World,  which  might  be  entering  its  nest  in  search  of 
accommodation  for  itself;  our  Martin  keeping  guard  while  the  mate  did  the  mason  work. 


THE  BLACK  MARTIN.  361 

secure  the  abundance  of  insect-food  necessary  to  their 
voracity.  For  just  as  nervous  people  eat  much  without  grow- 
ing fat,  the  nourishment  of  their  food  being  consumed  by 
their  nervous  energy,  so  these  active  birds  are  almost  un- 
limited eaters. 

Two  broods  may  be  raised  in  a  season,  and  in  the  latter 
part  of  August,  the  ridge  of  the  barn,  or  the  telegraph 
wire,  attests  to  the  numerous  progenies  which  migrate 
southward  for  the  winter,  to  return  again  to  the  middle 
districts,  from  their  distant  sojourn,  late  in  April  or  early 
in  May. 

About  five  inches  long,  the  tail  not  being  forked,  this 
species  has  the  upper  parts  a  glossy  steel-blue,  there  being 
a  white  triangular  or  crescent-shaped  spot  on  the  forehead 
(hence  the  specific  name  lunifrons) ;  throat  and  sides  of  the 
head,  chestuut;  rump,  reddish;  breast,  sides,  and  collar 
about  the  neck,  rust-color,  becoming  white  or  whitish  on  the 
belly.  As  with  the  rest  of  the  Swallows,  the  sexes  are 
nearly  alike,  and  the  young  are  similar.  The  white  or 
whitish  mark  on  the  forehead  is  always  distinctive. 

Wintering  in  Central  America,  this  species  breeds  nearly 
throughout  North  America. 

THE    BLACK    MARTIN. 

On  this  same  beautiful  morning  the  Black  Martins 
(Progne  purpured]  are  abroad.  The  fine  curves  in  flight 
and  the  easy  but  rapid  sailing,  .as  well  as  the  form,  mark 
this  bird  as  a  Swallow,  huge  though  he  be  for  one  of  his 
kind.  His  notes,  however,  are  peculiar  to  himself.  Chee-u, 
chee-u,  chee-u,  chee-u,  uttered  in  rapid  succession,  may 
represent  his  common  vocal  performance.  Often  he  adds  a 
peculiar  guttural  croak  or  chuckle,  especially  when  alighted 
about  the  breeding  tenement,  the  above-described  being 


362  THE  BLACK  MARTIN. 

especially  his  language  while  on  the  wing  Some  seven 
inches  long,  wing  six  inches,  tail  slightly  forked,  this  species 
appears  large  for  one  of  his  kind. 

The  mature  male  is  "lustrous  blue-black"  all  over.  The 
female  and  young  have  a  rather  dull  modification  of  the 
color  above,  being  more  or  less  white  below,  streaked  and 
spotted  with  gray. 

Undoubtedly  this  species  originally  bred  in  holes  in  trees, 
and  it  is  occasionally  known  to  do  so  still.  Now,  however, 
it  appropriates  a  hole  in  the  house-cornice,  a  bird-box,  or 
an  apartment  of  the  dove-house.  The  "  solitary  Indian " 
of  the  olden  times  trimmed  the  boughs  from  a  sapling 
near  his  wigwam  or  rude  cabin,  "leaving  the  prongs  a  foot 
or  two  in  length,  on  each  of  which  he  hung  a  gourd,  or 
calabash,  properly  hollowed  out,"  for  the  bird's  convenience. 
Later  still,  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  the  negroes 
stuck  up  "long  canes,  with  the  same  species  of  apartment 
fixed  to  their  tops,  in  which  the  Martins  regularly  bred." 
If  rude  and  savage  breasts  discover  such  cordiality  toward 
this  bird,  what  wonder  if  civilization  and  refinement  attract 
it  by  miniature  houses,  especially  since  the  species  follows 
man  to  the  populous  village  and  the  crowded  town,  and  is 
not  disturbed  even  by  the  thoroughfares  of  business. 

The  breeding  tenement  adopted  by  the  Martin  is  fitted 
up  with  a  nest  of  bits  of  straw,  hay,  and  dry  leaves,  lined 
with  feathers.  The  eggs,' some  . 95x^0,  rather  small  for 
the  size  of  the  bird,  are  pure  white.  Thus  the  nest  and 
eggs  of  the  Martin  bear  a  close  resemblance  to  those  of  the 
White-bellied  Swallow. 

Its  bill  is  "very  stout"  for  a  Swallow,  and  is  "  curved  at 
the  end."  Its  bill  of  fare  is  by  no  means  confined  to  the 
tiny  insects  so  abundantly  captured  by  the  smaller  Swal- 
lows, but  includes  "wasps,  bees,  large  beetles,"  etc. 


THE  HUMMINGBIRD.  363 

All  careful  observers  bear  testimony  to  the  remarkable 
pugnacity  of  the  Martin,  which  attacks  successfully  the 
Hawks  and  Owls  generally,  and  even  the  Eagle,  and  so 
pesters  them  as  to  drive  them  from  the  neighborhood,  thus 
securing  more  or  less  protection  for  the  Domestic  Fowl.  It 
will  join  common  cause  with  the  Kingbird,  or  it  will  attack 
the  Kingbird  in  turn  and  compel*  him  to  flee. 

Wintering  in  the  tropics,  the  Black  Martin  ranges 
throughout  the  United  States  and  far  north  into  Canada, 
breeding  nearly  throughout  its  range.  It  reaches  New 
York  late  in  April,  and  leaves  late  in  August  or  early  in 
September.  Late  in  August  they  sometimes  assemble  in 
large  flocks,  after  the  manner  of  the  Swallows  generally, 
preparatory  to  their  southward  flight. 

THE    HUMMINGBIRD. 

As  I  am  gazing  on  that  Tartarian  honeysuckle — a  thing 
of  splendid  beauty,  with  its  abundant  sprays  of  blossoms  of 
snowy  white  and  bright  purple  set  off  by  an  exuberance  of 
dark-green  leaves — a  Ruby-throated  Hummingbird  (Tro- 
chilus  colubris]  shoots  around  the  house  and  hums  in  front 
of  the  clusters  of  blossoms.  There  are  many  birds,  the 
flight  of  which  is  so  rapid  that  the  strokes  of  their  wings 
cannot  be  counted,  but  here  is  a  species  with  such  nerve 
of  wing  that  its  wing-strokes  cannot  be  seen.  "A  hazy 
semicircle  of  indistinctness  on  each  side  of  the  bird  is  all 
that  is  perceptible."  Poised  m  the  air,  his  body  nearly 
at  the  perpendicular,  he  seems  to  hang  in  front  of  the  flow- 
ers, which  he  probes  so  hurriedly,  one  after  the  other,  with 
his  long  slender  bill.  That  long,  tubular,  fork-shaped  tongue 
may  be  sucking  up  the  nectar  from  those  rather  small  cylin- 
drical blossoms,  or  it  may  be  capturing  tiny  insects  housed 
away  there.  Much  more  like  a  large  sphinx  moth,  hover- 


364  THE  HUMMINGBIRD. 

ing  and  humming  over  the  flowers  in  the  dusky  twilight, 
than  like  a  bird,  appears  this  delicate  fairy-like  beauty. 
How  the  bright  green  of  the  body  gleams  and  glistens  in 


THE   HUMMINGBIRD. 

the  sunlight;  while  the  ruby-colored  throat,  changing  with 
the  angle  of  light  as  the  bird  moves,  is  like  a  bit  of  black 
velvet  above  the  white  under  parts,  or  it  glows  and  shimmers 
like  a  flame.  Each  imperceptible  stroke  of  those  tiny  wings 
conforms  to  the  mechanical  laws  of  flight,  in  all  their 
subtle  complications,  with  an  ease  and  gracefulness  that  seems 
spiritual.  Who  can  fail  to  note  that  fine  adjustment  of  the 
organs  of  flight  to  aerial  elasticity  and  gravitation,  by  which 
that  astonishing  bit  of  nervous  energy  can  rise  and  fall 
almost  on  the  perpendicular,  dart  from  side  to  side,  as  if  by 
magic,  or,  assuming  the  horizontal  position,  pass  out  of 
sight  like  a  shooting  star  ?  Is  it  not  impossible  to  con- 
ceive of  all  this  being  done  by  that  rational  calculation 


THE  HUMMINGBIRD.  365 

which  enables  the  rower  to  row,  or  the  sailor  to  sail  his 
boat? 

The  Hummingbird  has  alighted  on  a  twig  of  the  cherry- 
tree  near  by.  I  can  barely  see  his  feet,  like  bits  of  fine- 
drawn wire,  supporting  the  wee  bit  of  a  body.  He  looks 
nervously  about  him,  pointing  his  long  bill  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  sidles  gracefully  along  his  slender  perch.  Presently 
another  male  appears,  with  an  equally  ruby  throat,  and  dash- 
ing at  each  other,  they  describe  a  swift  zigzag,  whirling  about 
most  perilously,  squeaking  like  mice,  and  finally  disappearing 
with  a  rapidity  which  the  eye  can  follow  but  for  a  moment. 

About  3.25  long,  this  species  is  golden-green  above,  with 
a  fine  gloss,  and  white  beneath,  the  wings  and  tail  being  a 
purplish-brown.  The  male  has  the  metallic-lustrous  ruby 
on  the  throat,  which  is  wanting  in  the  female  and  the  young. 
The  female  has  the  sides  of  the  tail  white. 

The  nest  of  this  species,  about  the  size  of  half  a  hen's 
egg,  and  saddled  on  a  small  limb,  is  made  of  a  soft,  vegetable, 
cottony  substance,  sometimes  white,  sometimes  reddish  or 
grayish,  externally  intermixed,  perhaps,  with  the  scales 
of  beech-buds — a  sort  of  staple  article  in  the  nest  of  many 
kinds  of  birds — seemingly  to  give  it  consistency,  the  whole 
structure  being  most  elegantly  covered  outside  with  brightly 
colored  lichens  ;  thus  appearing  so  much  like  a  natural 
growth  or  excrescence  of  the  wood  itself  as  generally  to 
elude  observation.  It  may  be  placed  pretty  well  up  in  the 
tree  in  the  depth  of  the  forest,  or  lower  down  in  the  orchard, 
or  on  a  currant-bush  or  rose-bush  in  the  garden,  or  on  a 
coarse  weed-stalk  in  the  vicinity.  The  two  tiny  oval-oblong 
eggs,  pure  white  and  translucent,  lying  on  their  bed  of  silken 
down,  edged  and  surrounded  with  the  gayest  lichens,  never 
fail  to  move  the  heart  of  the  beholder  as  one  of  the  rarest 
bits  of  natural  beauty. 


366  THE  HUMMINGBIRD, 

But  the  most  wonderful  characteristic  of  our  Humming- 
bird, perhaps,  considering  his  tropical  relationships,  is  the 
great  northern  range  of  his  summer  habitat.  Excepting 
several  western  species,  which  migrate  along  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  westward  to  a  pretty  high  latitude,  the  four 
hundred  species  and  upwards  which  make  up  the  family 
of  Hummingbirds,  are  found  almost  entirely  in  tropical 
America.  They  are  creatures  associated  with  the  high  tem- 
peratures and  the  luxuriant  flora  of  the  American  section 
of  the  torrid  zone.  But  our  tiny  wanderer  goes  all  the  way 
through  Eastern  North  America  to  the  semi-frigid  regions 
of  Labrador  and  Hudson's  Bay.  He  is  the  great  traveler 
of  his  family.  And  with  what  a  magic  and  spirit-like  stroke 
of  the  wing  does  he  compass  sea  and  land.  He  passes  by 
the  lumbering  strokes  of  the  Heron,  the  Wild  Goose  or  the 
Eagle,  almost  like  a  streak  of  lightning,  and  sets  at  utter 
defiance  all  the  humming,  buzzing  wings  of  the  insect 
world. 

Our  Ruby-throat  is  one  of  the  plain  and  more  diminutive 
members  of  his  family.  In  this  relationship  of  hundreds, 
while  the  unity  binding  them  together  is  great,  the  strongly 
marked  variation  characterizing  the  different  groups  is  still 
more  remarkable.  The  Sabre-wings,  the  Coquettes,  the 
Rackets,  the  Puff-legs,  the  Sylphs,  the  Thorn-tails,  the  Star- 
fronts,  etc.,  have  each  their  distinguishing  peculiarities. 
Whether  we  contemplate  the  snowy  down  of  the  Puff-leg, 
the  elegant  crest  of  the  Coquette,  the  pure  white  ruff  of  the 
Ruff-neck  tipped  with  scintillating  spangles,  the  suspended 
and  fantastic  patches  on  the  tips  of  the  long  tails  of  the 
Rackets,  the  glistening  surface  of  the  long  scissors-shaped 
tails  of  the  Sylphs,  the  glowing  points  of  the  Star-fronts,  or 
the  burning  lustre  of  the  Fiery  Topaz,  we  see  that  the  high- 
est possible  effect  of  both  form  and  color  is  here  attained. 


THE  HUMMINGBIRD.  367 

Nor  do  these  marvelous  manifestations  of  beauty  serve  any 
necessary  purpose  whatever  in  the  mode  of  their  existence. 
The  theory  of  "Struggle  for  Life"  certainly  affords  no 
explanation  of  either  their  origin  or  their  continuance. 
Here  evidently  are  beauty  and  ornament  for  their  own 
sake,  and  that  of  the  most  astounding  and  transcendent 
kind.  And  why  should  these  "Glittering  Fragments  of  the 
Rainbow "  be  found  only  in  "  the  tropical  forests "  and 
"  amid  the  rich  drapery  of  the  orchids  "  of  the  New  World, 
if  mere  physical  causes  are  to  account  for  their  origin  ?  As 
we  gaze  upon  these  tiny  objects  of  the  most  delicate  and 
flaming  beauty,  our  aesthetic  nature  moving  us  to  tears,  let 
us  acknowledge  that  the  hand  which  made  them  is  Divine. 

The  European  Sparrow  (Passer  domesticus),  now  so  com- 
mon about  our  houses  both  in  the  city  and  in  the  country  vil- 
lages, is  so  well  known  as  to  need  no  description  in  a  work 
like  this.  Suffice  it  to  say,  it  is  not  a  favorite,  and  the 
utility  of  its  immigration  is  doubtful. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  FIRST  DAYS  OF  JUNE. 

WHAT  greater  charm  has  the  forest  than  its  extensive  va- 
riety of  ferns!  What  a  highly- wrought  thing  of  beauty 
is  the  pattern  of  each  frond  !  In  that  immense  vegetation 
period  in  geological  history  called  the  coal-age,  when  no 
flower  breathed  its  fragrance  on  the  landscape,  the  immense 
numbers  of  magnificent  ferns,  which  have  left  their  imprint 
in  the  rocks,  assure  us,  nevertheless,  that  the  world  was  very 
beautiful.  Of  those  continents  of  flowerless  plants  my 
imagination  is  striving  to  form  some  conception  as  I  wade 
through  the  many  varieties  of  ferns  which  adorn  a  low  open 
wood  north  of  the  Ridge  —  a  place  where  I  frequently  go, 
these  first  days  of  June,  in  search  of  birds'  nests. 

THE    GOLDEN-WINGED    WARBLER. 

In  the  center  of  this  grand  fernery,  the  forest  is  a  sort  of 
open  grove,  letting  in  the  sun  with  but  little  obstruction, 
and  thus  forming  a  very  paradise  for  the  study  of  oology. 
Most  birds  of  the  forest  shun  the  gloom  and  dampness  of 
its  more  shadowy  parts,  when  locating  their  nests,  and  seek 
out  the  more  or  less  open  spaces,  sheltered  from  the  wind 
and  warmed  by  the  sun.  Hence  I  lay  me  down  here,  in  a 
fragrant  bed  of  ferns,  to  listen  and  observe.  On  this  bright, 
sunny  morning,  everything  is  astir.  I  am  in  the  midst  of  a 
grand  concert,  which  few  performances  of  the  human  voice, 


THE   GOLDEN-WINGED    WARBLER.  369 

even,  can  equal.  Thrushes,  Warblers,  Vireos  and  Sparrows, 
all  harmonizing  finely;  while  the  rumbling  strokes  of  the 
wings  of  yon  male  Partridge  and  the  shrill  notes  of  the 
Crested  Flycatcher  come  in  like  a  drum  and  tambourine. 
I  am  giving  particular  attention  to  a  fine,  soft  tone,  sound- 
ing like  tsway,  dsay,  dsay,  dsay,,  slowly  drawn  out,  and  remind- 
ing one  of  the  leisurely  and  pleasing  hum  of  an  insect.  It 
is  the  song  of  the  Golden-winged  Warbler  (Hdminthophaga 
chrysoptera).  Five  inches  long,  the  male  is  a  fine  slaty-blue 
above;  crown  and  broad  wing-bars,  sulphur  yellow;  cheeks 
and  throat,  black;  a  white  line  over  the  eye,  and  one  from 
the  gape  backward;  under  parts  grayish- white;  outer  tail- 
feathers,  marked  with  white;  the  female,  with  all  the  colors 
and  markings  more  obscure.  Arriving  during  the  second 
week  in  May,  this  species  resides  with  us  until  September; 
but  it  is  not  numerous,  and  the  nest  is  by  no  means  easy  to 
find.  As  I  watch  the  male,  pretty  well  up  in  a  second- 
growth  maple,  my  attention  is  arrested  by  a  sharp,  chipping 
note  in  the  thicket  just  below.  Straining  my  eyes  for  some 
minutes,  I  detect  a  female  Golden-wing,  much  excited, 
being  in  all  probability  the  mate  of  the  one  singing.  Un- 
derstanding the  excitement  and  the  sharp  chipping  note  as 
certain  evidences  of  a  nest  near  by,  I  at  once  begin  search. 
This  is  a  Ground  Warbler,  and  therefore  the  nest  is,  of 
course,  on  the  ground.  After  breaking  down  the  ferns  and 
sadly  spoiling  the  beauty  of  the  spot  in  my  thorough  but 
useless  search,  I  retire  behind  a  tree  to  watch  the  move- 
ments of  the  still  excited  female.  Very  soon  she  drops 
down  from  the  thicket  into  an  undisturbed  spot  at  the  root 
of  a  little  bush.  On  creeping  up  softly,  I  spy  her  tail  over 
the  edge  of  the  nest,  and  clapping  my  hand  over  her,  secure 
both  without  difficulty.  The  nest  is  uncommonly  deep,  not 
very  neatly  built,  outwardly  of  dried  leaves,  then  of  long 
24 


370  THE   GOLDEN-WINGED    WARBLER. 

pieces  of  rather  coarse  bark,  then  of  fine  strips  of  the  same 
and  stems  of  dried  grasses,  and  lined  with  fine  hair-like 
reddish  fibers,  which  must  be  the  inner  bark  of  the  wild 
grape-vine.  The  eggs,  five  in  number,  small,  about  .48x 
.60,  scarcely  the  size  of  the  Goldfinches,  are  creamish- 
white,  delicately  and  sparsely  specked  with  brown  and  lilac 
at  the  large  end. 

Wintering  in  Central  America,  the  Golden-wing's  sum- 
mer range  is  to  New  England  and  Canada  West,  and  west 
to  the  Missouri.  Its  nest  has  been  taken  as  far  south  as 
Georgia. 

Similar  to  the  last,  but  richer  and  darker  in  color,  and 
having  the  black  patch  on  the  throat  much  larger,  is  Law- 
rence's Warbler  (Helminthophaga  lawrencei),  of  which  two 
have  been  found  in  New  Jersey. 

Very  similar  in  size  and  form,  as  also  in  general  colora- 
tion, to  the  Golden-wing,  is  the  White-throated  Golden-wing 
{Helminthophaga  leucobronchialis],  discovered  by  Wm.  Brew- 
ster  in  May  of  1870,  in  Newtonville,  Mass.  His  description 
is  as  follows:  " Crown,  bright  yellow,  slightly  tinged  with 
olive  on  the  occiput.  Greater  and  middle  wing-coverts 
yellow,  not  as  bright  as  the  crown.  Superciliary  line,  cheeks, 
throat  and  entire  under  parts,  silky-white,  with  a  slight 
tinge  of  pale  yellow  on  the  breast.  Dorsal  surface — exclu- 
sive of  the  nape  which  is  clear  ashy — washed  with  yellow, 
as  are  also  the  outer  margins  of  the  secondaries.  A  narrow 
line  of  clear  black  passes  from  the  base  of  the  upper 
mandible,  through  and  to  a  short  distance  behind  the  eye, 
interrupted,  however,  by  the  lower  eye-lid,  which  is  dis- 
tinctly white." 

At  first  it  was  thought  by  many  to  be  simply  a  variety  of 
the  Golden-winged  Warbler,  but  up  to  May,  1879,  some 
nine  specimens  of  the  White-throated  Golden-wing  had  been 


THE  MOURNING    WARBLER.  ^\ 

identified,  mostly  in  New  England,  thus  fully  differentiating 
it  as  a  species.  Its  notes  and  habits  in  general  are  very 
similar  to  those  of  its  near  relatives. 

THE    MOURNING    WARBLER. 

Seating  myself  at  another  point  in  the  vicinity,  under  the 
shade  of  a  silky  dogwood  in  full  bloom,  I  study  the  song 
of  the  Mourning  Warbler  (Geothlypis  Philadelphia].  This 
song,  which  varies  considerably  with  different  individuals, 
may  generally  be  denoted  by  the  syllables,  free,  free,  free, 
fruh,  fruh — the  first  three  being  loud  and  clear,  and  the 
last  two,  in  a  lower  tone,  and  so  much  softer  and  shorter 
that  a  moderate  distance,  or  a  slight  breeze  in  the  opposite 
direction,  may  prevent  one  from  hearing  them.  Having 
every  opportunity  for  the  study  of  this  song — for  the 
Mourning  Warbler  is  a  common  summer  resident  in  thickets 
and  open  places  of  the  woods  here — I  find  little  or  no  re- 
semblance between  it  and  the  melody  of  the  Water-thrush. 

While  I  sit  watching,  the  male  leaves  his  place  of  song 
in  the  clump  of  spice-bushes,  and,  dropping  into  the  top  of 
some  tall  cinnamon  ferns,  meets  the  female.  Well  aware 
how  great  a  desideratum  is  the  nest  of  this  bird,  and  that  it 
builds  on  the  ground,  I  begin  search  on  hands  and  knees 
with  much  enthusiasm.  I  work  hard  for  several  hours,  till 
the  entire  surface  for  many  square  rods  around  has  been 
carefully  examined,  but  find  no  nest. 

Mr.  Burroughs  reports  a  nest  found  "in  a  bunch  of  ferns, 
and  about  six  inches  from  the  ground.  It  was  quite  a  mas- 
sive nest,  composed  entirely  of  the  stalks  and  leaves  of  dry 
grass,  with  an  inner  lining  of  fine,  dark-brown  roots.  The 
eggs,  three  in  number,  were  of  light  flesh  color,  uniformly 
specked  with  fine  brown  specks.  The  cavity  of  the  nest 
was  so  deep  that  the  back  of  the  sitting  bird  sank  below 


372  THE  REDSTART. 

the  edge."  This  instance  is  quite  representative  of  the  usual 
manner  of  the  nesting  of  this  species.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, the  nest  would  seem  to  be  less  bulky.  It  is  always 
well  concealed  among  rubbish,  fallen  trees,  and  ferns.  The 
eggs  are  some  .68X-51,  and  have  been  found  in  this  State 
as  late  as  the  17th  of  July. 

Five  inches  long,  the  male  of  this  species  has  the  upper 
parts  of  a  fine  olive-green;  head,  a  fine  slate-color;  throat 
and  breast,  black,  crossed  by  delicate  concentric  lines  of 
slate,  caused  by  a  fine  fringe  of  that  color  on  the  tips  of  the 
feathers,  making  the  dark  spot  look  something  like  black 
crape,  whence  the  common  name  ;  the  under  parts,  bright 
yellow;  the  female  is  similar,  with  the  dark  patch  on  the 
breast  almost  obliterated.* 

Wintering  in  the  farthest  part  of  Central  America,  and 
even  in  South  America,  this  bird  goes  north,  in  the  migra- 
tions, to  the  British  Provinces,  becoming  rare,  however,  in 
Nova  Scotia.  It  breeds  in  New  York,  New  England  and 
northward,  arriving  in  Western  New  York  about  the  middle 
of  May. 

THE    REDSTART. 

A  few  rods  off,  in  a  thicker  part  of  the  woods,  I  hear  a 
bird-song,  which  at  this  time  of  year  greets  me  through- 
out every  forest.  It  is  the  song  of  the  Redstart  (Setophaga 
rutidlld)',  and,  except  that  it  resembles  that  of  the  Yellow 
Warbler,  I  can  compare  it  to  no  sound  so  well  as  to  that  of 
a  circular  tin-whistle  with  a  hole  through  the  center,  which, 
when  held  between  the  lips  and  teeth  and  the  breath  is  al- 
ternately drawn  in  and  blown  out,  makes  a  noise  with  which 
every  one  is  familiar.  Simple  as  is  this  comparison,  to  my 
ear  the  song  is  decidedly  pleasing.  There  is  not  a  little 

*  The  female  of  one  pair  of  these  birds,  taken  along  with  the  nest  by  Mr.  Bruce,  has 
the  white  eye-lids,  supposed  to  differentiate  Macgillivray's  Warbler  of  the  Rocky  Mount- 
ains and  the  Pacific  Coast  as  a  species,  thus  suggesting  the  propriety  of  regarding  the 
latter  as  a  mere  variety  of  the  former. 


THE  REDSTART.  373 

variety  in  the  whistling  tones,  and  the  theme  is  always  well 
modulated.  Like  all  bird-songs,  it  contains  immeasurably 
more  than  anything  to  which  it  can  be  likened. 

A  view  of  this  bird  is  even  more  gratifying  than  his  song. 
Something  more  than  5  inches  long,  the  male  is  black,  sides 
of  the  breast,  flanks,  patches  in  the  wing,  and  more  than 
the  basal  half  of  the  tail  feathers,  except  a  few  in  the  cen- 
ter, reddish-orange,  or  flame-color;  under  parts  from  the 
breast  down,  white.  The  female  is  olivaceous-slate,  the 
markings  being  bright  yellow  where  the  male  has  the  flame- 
color.  Though  resembling  the  Warblers  in  almost  every 
particular,  the  bill  of  the  Redstart,  in  its  flat,  triangular 
shape,  with  notch  and  hook  at  the  end  of  the  upper  mandible 
and  its  surrounding  bristles,  is  like  that  of  the  Flycatchers. 
Its  habit,  too,  in  taking  food,  suggests  a  similar  relation. 

Among  the  bright  foliage  of  this  luxuriant  month,  he  is 
an  object  of  uncommon  beauty.  How  his  glossy  black  sets 
off  his  fiery  orange  markings  as  he  flits  from  point  to 
point,  spreading  his  tail  with  a  jerking  motion,  and  assum- 
ing a  great  variety  of  attitudes  in  rapid  succession  as  he 
hunts  his  prey. 

The  sharp  chipping  notes,  mixed  in  with  the  varied  com- 
binations of  his  song,  remind  me  that  on  the  23d  of  May, 
about  a  week  ago,  I  saw  a  female  building  her  nest.  As  a 
rule  among  all  species  of  birds,  the  construction  of  the  nest 
is  the  work  of  the  female.  The  male  is  the  musician,  the 
female  the  architect.  How  diligent  was  this  little  Redstart 
in  the  enterprise.  Every  few  minutes  she  returned,  her 
mouth  full  of  materials,  which  she  arranged  in  the  most  ex- 
pert manner.  The  outside  completed,  she  would  pitch  into 
the  nest  to  adjust  the  lining,  and  turning  round  and  round, 
pressing  her  breast  against  one  side  and  manipulating  the 
other  with  her  feet,  a  wonderful  symmetry  and  perfection 


374  THE  INDIGO  BIRD. 

was  secured  in  a  short  time.  What  human  skill  and  patience 
could  ever  construct  an  object  like  this  ?  Placed  in  a  crotch 
near  the  top  of  a  young  tree  or  sapling,  sometimes  between 
nearly  upright  limbs  and  the  trunk,  anywhere  from  6  to  20 
feet  high,  it  is  compactly  woven  of  fine  fibrous  materials, 
fitted  together  and  often  ornamented  with  vegetable  down 
or  cottony  substances,  not  infrequently  intermixed  with  the 
scales  of  leaf-buds,  and  lined  with  the  finest  of  bark  and 
grass-fibers. 

I  have  before  me  a  nest,  externally  much  taller  than 
usual,  since  it  contains  two  Cow-bird's  eggs,  successively 
deposited,  and  built  out  of  sight  at  different  depths,  some- 
thing like  the  Yellow  Warbler's  nest  described  by  Wilson. 
It  also  has  several  feathers,  of  some  small  bird's  tail,  stuck 
obliquely  about  half-way  into  the  rim.  The  eggs,  commonly 
4,  averaging  about  .65  x  -50,  are  white,  more  or  less  specked 
or  spotted  all  over,  but  chiefly  around  the  large  end,  with 
reddish-brown  and  lilac. 

Wintering  in  the  tropics,  the  Redstart  arrives  here  on  the 
first  days  of  May.  It  is  common  in  Eastern  North  America, 
generally  breeding  northward.  I  found  it  very  common  in 
the  latitudes  of  Manitoulin  Island  and  Nova  Scotia. 

THE    INDIGO    BIRD. 

As  I  reach  a  more  open  part  of  the  woods,  seeming  almost 
like  a  thicket,  I  get  down  on  hands  and  knees  in  a  black- 
berry tangle,  to  explore  its  mysteries;  and  at  once  espy  a 
bird's  nest,  built  in  the  declined  stems,  and  sheltered  by  the 
thickly-matted  tops.  At  the  first  glimpse  of  it,  the  sitting 
bird  drops  down  out  of  sight  and  skulks  off;  and  as  there  is 
so  often  no  certainty  in  identifying  a  nest  without  the  bird, 
I  lie  down  in  this  miniature  arbor,  and  await  her  return. 
Very  soon  I  have  a  number  of  calls.  A  fine  male  of  the 


THE  INDIGO   BIRD.  375 

Mourning  Warbler  hops  in  very  gracefully,  scans  me 
thoroughly,  and  leaves,  without  salutation,  remarks  upon 
the  weather,  or  any  expression  of  opinion  whatever.  Next 
comes  a  Yellow-backed  Blue  Warbler,  equally  curious  and 
nervous  in  his  movements,  and  perfectly  reticent.  Then  a 
Song  Sparrow,  which,  ever  since  my  approach  has  been  keep- 
ing up  a  constant  racket,  to  the  great  alarm  of  the  whole 
neighborhood,  comes  within  a  few  feet  of  me,  scolding  and 
jerking  his  tail  in  a  very  unamiable  manner.  Like  certain 
individuals  of  another  species,  he  prolongs  his  call  and  his 
loquacity  far  beyond^  my  pleasure.  At  length  all  is  quiet, 
and  the  owner  of  the  nest  appears.  It  is  the  female  Indigo 
Bird.  A  little  smaller  than  a  Canary,  but  almost  precisely  of 
the  same  form  and  structure,  she  is  of  a  plain  brown,  lighter 
underneath,  and  dusky  on  the  wings  and  tail.  A  fine  voiced 
male,  too,  is  singing  near  by,  which  is  probably  her  mate, 
all  unconscious  of  the  peril  of  his  family.  His  song  is  quite 
unique,  and  therefore  easily  recognized  when  once  well 
noted.  A  sort  of  hurried  warble,  quite  fluent,  and  yet 
seeming  to  stick  in  the  throat  a  little,  this  melody  is  one  of 
the  most  common  in  thickets,  along  the  edges  of  forests, 
and  about  the  borders  of  swamps.  Its  tones  are  musical, 
being  loud  at  first,  but  growing  faint  at  the  last,  as  if  the 
singer  were  exhausting  his  lungs;  and  it  is  as  likely  to  be 
heard  in  the  heat  of  noon  as  in  the  cool  of  the  early  morn- 
ing. 

The  mature  male,  some  5.75  long,  is  blue,  shading  into 
dark  indigo  about  the  head,  and  tinged  with  greenish  on 
the  back;  wings  and  tail  black,  edged  with  blue.  This  bird 
is  generally  finer  in  the  bush,  however,  than  in  the  hand. 
As  the  male  requires  several  years  to  come  to  maturity, 
many  are  spotted,  by  the  mixing  in  of  dull  brown  or  gray 
feathers,  and  so,  on  examination,  appear  quite  shabby. 


376  THE   GREAT  CRESTED  FLYCATCHER. 

Thus  assured  as  to  its  identity,  I  examine  the  nest.  Sev- 
eral firm,  dried  leaves  are  hung  hammock-like  to  the 
branches  of  a  forked  stem  of  the  blackberry  bush,  then  a 
sort  of  bedding  of  skeleton-leaves  being  added,  the  rather 
thick  wall  of  the  nest  is  of  fine  rootlets  and  dried  grasses, 
closely  laid,  and  the  lining  is  of  fine  bark-fibers  and  horse- 
hair. Another  nest  in  the  vicinity  is  placed  in  a  low  bush, 
and  is  similarly  made,  except  that  it  is  heavily  ornamented 
with  the  bud-scales  and  dried  staminate  blossoms  of  the 
beech,  and  made  hoary  with  webby  material  of  various 
kinds;  the  lining,  too,  is  of  fine  dried  grasses  and  a  large 
quantity  of  black  horse-hair.  The  eggs,  three  or  four,  some 
.Y5X.55  of  an  inch,  are  white,  generally  more  or  less  trans- 
lucent, and  slightly  tinged  with  blue — said  to  be  sometimes 
specked — truly  beautiful,  especially  when  laid  on  a  thick 
lining  of  black  horse-hair.  These  birds  are  very  uneasy  and 
emit  a  loud  and  peculiar  chink  when  the  nest  is  approached. 
The  species  ranks  with  the  Sparrows,  and  is  called,  in 
science,  Cyanospiza  cyanea.  "Habitat,  eastern  Province  of 
the  United  States — north  to  Canada  and  Maine,  west  to 
Kansas  and  Indian  Territory,  south  through  Texas  to 
Mexico  and  Central  America,  where  it  winters.  Breeds 
throughout  most  of  its  United  States  habitat,  from  Texas  to 
Canada."  (Coues.) 

THE  GREAT  CRESTED  FLYCATCHER. 

From  a  group  of  tall  trees,  there  comes  a  bird-voice, 
which  I  find  most  imperfectly  described  in  the  books,  namely, 
that  of  the  Great  Crested  Flycatcher  (Myiar chits  crinitus). 
Its  most  common  note,  tweep — though  in  a  loud,  spirited, 
whistling  tone,  given  with  a  peculiar  emphasis,  and  ab- 
ruptly closed — is  by  no  means  a  harsh  squeak,  as  Wilson  and 
Audubon  say,  but,  as  a  mere  note,  is  decidedly  rich  and 


THE  GREAT  CRESTED  FLYCATCHER.  377 

agreeable,  calling  forth  a  fine  woodland  echo,  and  impress- 
ing one  with  the  animation,  courage  and  bravery  of  the 
bird.  Scarcely  less  agreeable  is  his  rapidly  uttered  twip^ 
twip,  twip,  twip,  twip,  or  even  his  guttural  rattling  call,  equally 
characteristic.  Perched  in  the  rather  open  top  of  a  tall  elm, 
he  appears  to  the  best  advantage  in  the  full  light  of  the 
morning  sun.  Some  9  inches  long,  with  the  strongest  out- 
line of  that  peculiar  form  which  always  marks  the  Fly- 
catcher ;  standing  in  a  spirited,  upright  attitude,  with  crest 
erected,  his  upper  parts  are  a  fine  greenish-olive,  throat  and 
upper  breast,  ash;  under  parts  sulphur-yellow;  wings  dusky, 
edged  with  greenish- white;  tail  dusky;  outer  edge  of  the 
primaries  and  under  side  of  the  tail,  bright  reddish-chest- 
nut. His  frequent  jerk  of  the  tail,  as  he  sits,  otherwise  mo- 
tionless, for  some  time  on  the  branch,  cutting  an  occasional 
semicircle  in  quest  of  his  passing  prey,  as  well  as  his  struct- 
ure and  generally  pugnacious  disposition — all  declare  his 
character  as  a  Flycatcher.  This  bird  is  so  common  in  our 
forests  that  his  notes  seem  almost  identified  with  the  sum- 
mer landscape. 

Observing  that  the  greater  part  of  the  top  of  a  tall  elm 
in  his  vicinity  is  dead,  I  suspect  a  nest  in  some  hollow  of  a 
broken  branch,  and  putting  on  my  climbers,  ascend  to  the 
region  of  dead  limbs.  I  have  looked  about  me  pretty  thor- 
oughly without  success,  and  am  about  to  descend,  when  I 
notice,  some  distance  .out  from  me,  a  broken  limb  about  six 
inches  in  diameter,  and  stretching  myself  along  its  length, 
ten  or  twelve  inches  within  its  hollow  end,  I  look  into  the 
nest,  which  contains  5  eggs.  Jamming  my  hand  down  the 
passage  with  much  difficulty,  I  secure  the  eggs  one  by  one, 
packing  them  in  leaves  in  the  crown  of  my  hat,  and  pocket 
the  lining  of  the  nest.  So  much,  so  good.  Now  I  begin  to 
descend,  quite  elated  over  my  success.  I  get  about  half- 


378  THE   GREAT  CRESTED  FLYCATCHER. 

way  down  the  perilous  height,  when  lo,  some  un- 
friendly bough  knocks  off  my  hat,  and  with  a  very  un- 
pleasant sensation  somewhere  about  my  left  side,  I  note  the 
unlucky  curves  it  makes  adown  the  trunk.  All  my  high 
satisfaction  over  my  achievement  is  sinking  to  the  soles  of 
my  boots,  when,  as  good  luck  will  have  it,  the  hat  closes  up 
against  the  trunk,  supported  by  an  almost  upright  limb, 
thus  making  the  entire  contents  secure.  As  suddenly  my 
contentment  comes  back,  and  in  a  few  moments,  seated  on 
terra  firma,  I  examine  my  treasures.  First  the  lining  of  the 
nest.  Dried  leaves,  fibers  of  bark,  wool,  hair,  feathers,  the 
end  of  a  squirrel's  tail,  and  true  to  the  never-failing  custom 
of  this  bird,  cast-off  snake 's  skin.  I  found  a  nest  in  a  hollow 
limb  in  an  old  orchard  a  few  days  since,  with  similar  nest 
linings — the  material,  however,  consisting  largely  of  stubble, 
dried  grasses,  and  pigs'  bristles — the  different  linings  placed 
in  the  nest  from  year  to  year,  lying  one  on  the  other  like  so 
many  sauce-plates  in  a  pile,  thus  showing  the  number  of 
successive  years  the  place  had  been  occupied.  Every  lining 
had  the  cast-off  snake's  skin.  The  eggs,  generally  5,  some 
1.00  x  .?5,  are  strongly  differentiated  in  color.  The  ground- 
color being  dark  cream  or  buff,  scratched  and  brushed  in 
every  direction,  but  more  particularly  lengthwise,  as  if  with 
a  pen  or  fine  brush,  with  a  rich  brown  and  lilac.  Sometimes 
the  markings  are  thicker  on  the  large  end,  but  generally 
they  extend  equally  all  over,  not  infrequently  running  into 
blotches. 

Wintering  on  the  Florida  Keys  and  in  the  West  Indies, 
this  bird  arrives  in  Western  New  York  the  first  week  in 
May.  Common,  more  especially  to  the  woods,  occasionally 
residing  in  the  orchard,  it  extends  sparingly  into  New 
England,  rarely  beyond  the  Connecticut  Valley,  west 
to  Eastern  Kansas,  northwestward  to  Cypress  Hills  in 


THE  FIELD   SPARROW.  379 

British  America,  and  breeds  throughout  the  Eastern  United 
States. 

The  local  distribution  of  birds  is  very  interesting.  Each 
kind  of  locality  has  its  own  peculiar  species.  Around  our 
residences,  and  in  the  orchard,  we  find  a  certain  group — the 
Chipping  Sparrow,  the  Purple  Finch,  the  Kingbird,  the 
Phcebe,  the  Eave  and  Barn  Swallows.  In  the  open  field  we 
have  another  group — the  Meadow  Lark,  the  Horned  Lark, 
the  Bay-winged  Sparrow,  the  Bobolink  ;  in  the  thickets,  yet 
another  group — the  Field,  or,  more  properly,  the  Bush  Spar- 
row, the  Indigo  Bird,  the  Catbird,  the  Yellow  Warbler  ; 
the  forest  birds — the  Thrushes,  the  greater  part  of  the 
Warblers  and  Flycatchersj  and  certain  of  the  Fringillida — 
are  quite  strictly  confined  to  their  peculiar  abodes;  the 
swamps  afford  a  large  variety,  nowhere  else  to  be  found, 
while,  as  every  one  knows,  the  water-birds  are  more  or  less 
attached,  by  regular  laws  of  distribution,  to  ponds,  streams, 
rivers,  lakes,  or  to  the  ocean.  In  no  way  is  the  instinct  of 
birds  more  certainly  made  known  than  in  the  selection  of 
their  local  as  well  as  their  general  habitat. 

THE    FIELD    SPARROW. 

As  I  approach  a  thicket — a  slashing,  as  it  is  called  here — 
being  a  rough  piece  of  ground  where  the  forest  has  been 
recently  cut  away  and  where  the  bushes  have  grown  up,  I 
hear  the  peculiar  song  of  the  Field  or  Bush  Sparrow  (Spi- 
zella  pusilld].  The  notes  may  be  pronouced  free-o,  free-o, 
free-o,  free-o,  free,  free,  free,  free,  fru,  fru;  the  first  four 
loud,  well  prolonged,  and  on  a  higher  key,  while  the  re- 
maining notes  run  rapidly  to  a  lower  pitch,  growing  softer 
and  weaker  to  the  end,  the  last  being  barely  perceptible  at 
a  short  distance.  The  song  is  quite  constantly  repeated  at 


380  THE  BLACK-BILLED   CUCKOO. 

short  intervals,  and  has  a  rather  melancholy,  but  soothing 
and  pleasing,  effect,  which  sensitive  natures  readily  recog- 
nize, and  do  not  easily  forget.  It  is  the  homely  pensive 
poetry  of  the  thicket — that  line  of  land  where  the  culti- 
vated beauty  and  fertility  of  the  fields  end  and  the  solitude 
and  gloom  of  the  forest  begin.  The  bird  is  quite  shy  and 
retiring,  and  therefore  but  little  known.  A  little  smaller 
than  the  Chipping  Sparrow,  or  some  5.00  inches  long,  and 
therefore  the  smallest  of  all  our  Sparrows,  it  has  the  usual 
colors  and  marking  of  that  group  over  the  back,  lacking 
the  bright  chestnut  on  the  crown,  so  peculiar  to  the  Chip- 
ping and  Tree  Sparrows,  and  the  striped  crown  and  spotted 
or  streaked  breast,  either  or  both  of  which  are  common  to 
the  rest  of  the  Sparrows.  It  may  therefore  be  readily 
identified. 

The  nest,  usually  placed  low  in  a  little  bush,  sometimes 
on  the  ground,  is  a  frail,  loose  structure  which  one  can  look 
through,  mostly  of  dried  grasses  and  rootlets,  lined  with 
the  finest  of  the  grasses,  fine  shreds  of  bark  from  the  grape- 
vine, or  horse-hair.  The  eggs,  four  or  five,  some  .70X-50, 
are  white,  sometimes  with  a  slight  tinge  of  greenish  or 
grayish,  specked  and  spotted  with  a  delicate,  almost  flesh- 
colored  red — really  pretty. 

Wintering  from  the  Carolinas  southward,  and  breeding 
from  the  same  point  northward,  these  birds  reach  Western 
New  York  about  the  middle  of  April,  and  deposit  their 
eggs  late  in  May  or  early  in  June.  Becoming  rare  already 
in  Northern  New  England,  it  extends  somewhat  into  the 
British  Provinces. 

THE   BLACK-BILLED   CUCKOO. 

As  I  pass  along,  through  the  thickets,  I  hear  the  well- 
defined  notes  of  the  Black-billed  Cuckoo — chou,  cJiou,  chou, 


THE  BLACK-BILLED   CUCKOO.  331 

chou,  and  cuckoo,  koo,  koo,  koo,  koo,  koo,  and  cuek-chou-ou,  by  no 
means  musical,  but  quite  pleasing  as  an  odd  variety.  In  a 
moment  he  glides  by  me.  What  a  straightforward,  regular, 
noiseless  and  graceful  flight! 

It  is  difficult  to  get  a  satisfactory  view  of  this  bird  amidst 
our  thick  summer  foliage.  He  is  so  noiseless  as  he,  "  still 
hiding,  further  onward  wooes  you;"  and  if  he  stand  stock- 
still,  with  head  a  little  on  one  side,  his  color  is  so  nearly  like 
that  of  the  bark  of  the  undergrowth,  or  is  such  a  com- 
promise between  that  and  the  foliage,  as  to  render  him  ex- 
ceedingly obscure.  No  doubt  he  is  very  happy  in  his  way, 
but  he  does  indeed  seem  "as  solitary  and  joyless  as  the  most 
veritable  anchorite." 

I  creep  up  to  the  bush  in  which  he  lit,  and  find  a  nest,  if 
indeed  so  slight  and  rude  a  structure  be  worthy  of  the 
name — a  few  twigs  laid  criss-cross,  bits  of  dried  fern,  and  a 
few  downy  catkins  of  the  willow  on  top — how  does  the  bird 
get  off  and  on,  and  keep  the  eggs  and  young  on  this  bit  of 
trash?  The  eggs,  some  1.12 x -83,  are  elliptical,  and  of  a 
beautiful  clear  or  somewhat  clouded  light  green.  Arriving 
after  the  middle  of  May,  this  bird  seems  to  begin  incubation 
almost  at  once.  The  callow  young  are  indeed  queer-look- 
ing objects;  their  skin,  which  is  black  as  soot,  is  sparsely  set 
with  white  thread-like  down.  The  eggs  appear  to  be  laid 
sometimes  at  very  considerable  intervals,  so  that  the  same 
nest  may  contain  the  young  eggs  partly  incubated,  and 
others  fresh. 

Nearly  a  foot  in  length,  of  which  length  the  oblongly 
rounded  tail  constitutes  nearly  one-half,  the  upper  parts 
are  an  elegant,  glossy  bronze-brown ;  tail  feathers,  except  the 
two  central,  tipped  with  white,  which  joins  the  main  color 
in  a  black  margin;  bill  and  feet  black,  eye-lids  vermilion, 
under  parts  white.  Male  and  female  are  alike.  The  young 


382  THE    YELLOW-BILLED   CUCKOO. 

have  the  feathers  above,  tipped  with  white,  and  the  white 
underneath  grayish.  Feeding  partly  on  small  fruits,  this 
species  is  chiefly  insectivorous. 

This  Cuckoo  (Coccyzus  erythrophthalmus),  abundant  in  this 
locality,  is  a  great  traveler.  Breeding  from  the  Southern 
States  northward  even  to  Labrador,  though  he  may  winter 
in  Florida,  he  sometimes  goes  even  to  the  valley  of  the 
Amazon.  As  a  vagrant,  he  has  been  found  in  Europe. 

THE    YELLOW-BILLED     CUCKOO. 

The  Yellow-billed  Cuckoo  (Coccyzus  americanus]  is  about 
the  size  and  form  of  the  Black-billed;  and,  with  the  exception 
of  its  yellow  under  mandible,  cinnamon  edging  on  the  wings 
and  wholly  black  and  white  outer  tail  feathers,  is  precisely 
like  it  in  color,  habit  and  vocal  performance.  It  is  not  very 
numerous  here.  Mr.  Ringueberg  occasionally  finds  the  nest 
in  the  vicinity  of  Lockport,  and  almost  every  observer 
shoots  one  now  and  then.  The  nest  is,  if  possible,  even 
slighter  than  that  of  the  former  species,  being,  in  one  case 
at  least,  merely  a  "cotton  rag,  which  was  firmly  caught  in 
the  thorns  of  a  barberry  bush."  (Minot.)  The  eggs  are  a 
little  longer,  larger  and  lighter  green;  the  notes  are  generally 
regarded  as  harsher.  The  intervals  between  the  depositing 
of  its  several  eggs  are  remarkable.  Audubon  once  saw  a 
nest,  containing  different  grades,  from  young  ones  ready  to 
fly  to  eggs  perfectly  fresh;  and  ascertained  that  eleven  young 
cuckoos  had  been  successfully  raised  from  a  single  nest  in 
the  vicinity.  It  would  seem  that  the  Cuckoo  is  especially 
noisy  during  meteorological  changes,  hence  it  is  called, 
quite  commonly,  the  "  Rain  Crow." 

The  Yellow-bill  is  a  more  southern  and  western  bird  than 
the  Black-bill,  breeding  throughout  the  United  States,  but 
becoming  rare,  or  absent  entirely,  as  we  approach  our  north- 


THE  NIGHT  HA  WK.  383 

ern  limits.  It  is  also  rare  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Though 
said  to  winter  in  Florida,  it  goes  even  to  Buenos  Ayres  in  its 
migrations,  and  has  accidentally  strayed  to  Europe. 

Both  our  Cuckoos  are  somewhat  nocturnal  in  their  habits. 
I  have  heard  the  loud  notes  of  the  Black-bill  in  the  orchard, 
a  few  rods  from  my  study  window,  at  a  very  late  hour  of 
the  night.  The  American  Cuckoo  is  not  usually  parasitic, 
after  the  manner  of  its  European  congener. 

The  Mangrove  Cuckoo  (Coccyzus  semiculus),  found  in 
Florida  and  the  West  Indies,  is  a  little  smaller  than  the 
above  species,  and  similar  in  its  marking  and  coloration 
to  the  Yellow-billed  Cuckoo,  except  that  its  lower  mandible 
is  pale  orange-brown,  and  its  outer  tail  feathers  are  not 
tipped  with  white. 

THE    NIGHT    HAWK. 

As  I  emerge  from  the  thicket  into  the  open  pasture,  a  so- 
called  Night  Hawk  (Chordeiles  virginianus)  flies  up,  almost 
from  under  my  feet,  and  moving  in  an  irregular,  zigzag 
manner,  alights  lengthwise  on  the  fence.  In  this  near  prox- 
imity, both  in  flight  and  in  repose,  he  is  a  weird  looking 
object.  His  odd  way  of  perching  lengthwise  is  supposed 
to  be  an  accommodation  to  his  feet  and  legs,  which  would 
seem  too  small  and  weak  to  support  him  crosswise.  As 
he  starts  from  the  ground  and  darts  this  way  and  that,  as  if 
somewhat  confused,  the  large,  clear  white  markings  of  his 
wings  and  tail  are  very  conspicuous,  and  sharply  defined 
by  the  dark  mottling  of  his  general  color.  By  no  means 
abundant  in  this  locality,  the  Night  Hawk  may  be  found 
from  early  in  May  till  early  in  autumn,  about  the  low 
grounds  north  of  the  Ridge.  In  Northern  New  England 
and  in  the  British  Provinces  it  is  very  abundant,  and  be- 
comes a  most  conspicuous  object  in  the  summer  landscape. 
Mr.  Samuels  reports  it  so  numerous  at  a  place  in  Maine, 


384  THE  NIGHT  HA  WK. 

called  Wilson's  Mills,  that  "  in  the  space  of  every  four  or  five 
rods,  a  female  was  sitting  on  her  eggs."  Indeed,  one  of  the 
most  vivid  impressions  received  in  many  parts  of  that  north- 
ern latitude,  on  a  summer's  evening,  is  that  of  the  loud 
peeping  and  booming  of  vast  numbers  of  these  birds.  This 
evening  flight  is  really  fine.  The  regular  beat  of  the  long 
pointed  wings,  now  faster,  now  slower,  the  bird  mounting  a 
little  higher,  and  uttering  its  characteristic/^  with  each 
accelerated  beating  of  the  wings,  is  somewhat  like  that  of 
our  smaller  Hawks,  the  Sharp-shinned,  for  instance  ;  while 
the  graceful  tipping  of  the  body  from  side  to  side,  as  it 
moves  in  a  continued  series  of  curves,  affords  a  still  further 
resemblance.  Notwithstanding  this  analogy  to  Hawks  in 
flight,  however,  the  Night  Hawk  in  structural  affinity  is  no 
Hawk  at  all,  but  a  sort  of  crepuscular  Swift,  flying  earlier 
indeed  in  cloudy  weather,  and  sometimes  even  in  the  bright- 
est sunshine,  but  generally  retiring  during  all  the  fore  and 
middle  part  of  sunny  days. 

Its  flight  is  generally  rapid  and  high,  sometimes  seeming 
to  be  almost  among  the  clouds,  where  its  frequent  motions  in 
the  capture  of  insects  show  how  elevated  a  part,  at  least,  of 
the  entomological  world  is.  The  most  characteristic  act  in 
the  flight  of  the  male  is  his  loud  and  indescribable  boom- 
ing, as  he  drops  head  foremost  from  his  more  or  less  ele- 
vated position,  and,  with  stiffened  wings,  the  tips  pointing 
downward,  cuts  a  long,  abrupt  curve.  This  sound,  which 
Wilson  compared  to  "  that  produced  by  blowing  strongly 
into  the  bunghole  of  an  empty  hogshead,"  he  thought  was 
caused  "  by  the  sudden  expansion  of  his  capacious  mouth 
while  passing  through  the  air."  Audubon  thought  it  was 
somehow  produced  by  the  wings.  The  latter  would  seem 
to  be  the  more  probable  conjecture,  as  one  can  always  see 
a  change  in  the  wings  as  the  noise  is  going  on.  The  exact 


THE  NIGHT  HA  WK.  385 

manner  of  producing  the  sound,  however,  we  shall  never 
know  till  some  ethereal  personage  can  take  his  point  of  ob- 
servation high  in  air,  and,  without  alarming  the  bird,  note 
exactly  its  method.  The  booming  is  mostly  confined  to 
the  breeding  season,  though  it  is  sometimes  heard  in 
autumn. 

These  birds  do  not  confine  themselves  to  insect-food  ob- 
tained in  the  upper  air,  but  also  search  the  ground.  Wilson 
shot  them  on  the  14th  of  August,  with  their  stomachs  al- 
most exclusively  filled  with  crickets.  From  one  of  them 
he  took  "  nearly  a  common  snuff-box  full  of  these  insects, 
all  seemingly  fresh  swallowed."  I  have  also  good  evidence 
that  in  the  more  northern  localities,  they  regale  themselves 
on  ripe  currants. 

Nine  inches  long,  the  Night  Hawk  is  black  or  dusky 
above,  variously  mottled  with  brown  and  brownish-white, 
with  narrow  black  and  whitish  rings  below,  the  male  having 
white  markings  in  the  wings  and  forked  tail,  and  a  rather 
large  triangular  or  crescent-shaped  white  spot  on  the  breast, 
the  female  having  smaller  white  markings  in  the  wings  only, 
and  a  reddish  mark  on  the  breast. 

The  two  eggs  of  the  Night  Hawk,  placed  on  the  ground 
in  some  open  pasture  or  thicket — a  burnt  spot  seems  pref- 
erable, as  harmonizing  best  with  the  color,  alike  of  the  eggs 
and  of  the  bird  without  a  nest — sometimes  on  the  flat  roof 
of  a  house  in  a  city,  are  about  1.25X-88,  elliptical,  the 
ground  of  grayish  or  creamy-white,  being  thickly  specked 
and  spotted  all  over  with  a  greenish-brown  and  several  shades 
of  lilac.  The  eggs  are  generally  laid  early  in  June,  but  I 
have  seen  the  young,  not  yet  fully  fledged,  as  late  as  July 
21st,  thus  indicating,  perhaps  a  second  brood. 

The  summer  range  of  this  bird  is  from  Central  North 
America  to  Hudson's  Bay,  while  its  winter  migrations  may 
25 


386  THE    WHIPPOORWILL. 

extend  to  the  West  India  Islands  and  Brazil.     It  does  not 
winter  within  the  Union. 

THE    WHIPPOORWILL. 

The  gorgeous  hues  of  sunset  have  faded  into  the  deep 
dusk  of  twilight.  I  have  been  listening  to  a  grand  concert 
at  this  close  of  day,  in  and  around  a  large  tract  of  wood- 
land on  these  low  grounds  north  of  the  Ridge.  As  the 
songs  of  Thrushes,  Warblers  and  Finches  die  out,  the  still- 
ness is  broken  by  a  loud  call,  commonly  described  as 
"Whip-poor-will"  but  which  to  my  ear  sounds  more  like  the 
syllables,  chick-koo-rhee.  The  call  is  rapidly  and  earnestly 
repeated  a  number  of  times,  the  first  syllable,  but  more 
especially  the  last,  being  emphasized.  The  vocal  perform- 
ance is  kept  up  at  intervals  during  the  night,  and  starts  up 
afresh  about  day-break. 

Strictly  local  in  its  distribution,  and  partial  to  swamps 
and  low  lands,  the  Whippoorwill  (Antrostomus  vociferus] 
must  be  numerous  here,  for  I  can  detect  its  weird  call  in 
some  half-dozen  directions  about  the  thicket,  and  in  the 
edge  of  the  woods  which  it  skirts.  I  creep  stealthily 
in  this  direction  and  that,  as  nearly  as  I  can  locate  the 
sound,  hoping  to  get  a  glimpse  of  this  strange  bird  of  the 
night,  before  daylight  is  entirely  gone.  I  seem  to  hear  him 
exactly  in  that  red  osier  bush  covered  with  its  snowy  blos- 
soms, and  strain  my  eyes  to  define  his  form,  but  in  vain. 
I  move  up  a  little  closer,  but  presently  the  sound  ceases  at 
that  point,  and  starts  up  somewhere  else.  Thus  I  am  tan- 
talized, like  one  following  the  will-tf-the-whisp.  I  spend  days 
in  succession  about  this  spot,  but  cannot  get  the  first  glimpse 
of  the  bird,  nor  any  sound  of  it,  except  at  night. 

Nine  inches  and  a  half  long,  the  Whippoorwill  bears  so 
strong  a  resemblance  to  the  Night  Hawk,  that  they  were 


THE    WHIPPOORWILL.  387 

once  supposed  to  be  the  same.  The  difference  is  mainly  as 
follows:  The  Whippoorwill  is  some  half  an  inch  longer, 
has  a  rounded  tail,  whereas  that  of  the  Night  Hawk  is 
forked,  has  a  much  longer  and  more  pointed  wing  than  the 
latter,  and  has  a  plentiful  supply  of  long  bristles  protrud- 
ing from  the  inside  of  the  mouth.  "  It  lays  on  the  ground, 
in  the  woods,  constructing  no  proper  nest,  and  depositing 
only  two  eggs.  These  are  elliptical,  nearly  or  quite  equal 
at  both  ends,  about  1.25x0.85,  and  are  curiously  scratched 
and  mottled  all  over  with  brown  surface  markings  and  paler 
purplish-gray  shell  colors  upon  a  whitish  ground.  The  egg 
is  quite  variable  in  amount  of  intensity  of  coloration,  some 
specimens  being  heavily  marbled,  while  others  appear  as 
if  faded  or  bleached,  from  indistinctness  of  the  tracery." 
(Coues.) 

This  sly  bird  of  the  night  inhabits  Eastern  North  Amer- 
ica generally  up  to  50°,  wintering  from  the  Gulf  Coast  south- 
ward, and  breeding  in  most  of  its  summer  range. 

Chuck-will's-widow  (Antrostomus  carolinensis)  is  a  closely 
allied  member,  along  with  the  Night  Hawk  and  Whippoor- 
will, of  the  CapHmulgtdce  family,  and  is  found  in  the  South- 
ern States  generally.  It  is  similar  to  its  relatives  just  de- 
scribed in  color  and  general  appearance,  but  is  nearly  twice 
as  large. 

Our  Night  Hawk,  Whippoorwill  and  Chuck-will's-widow, 
belong  to  the  Caprimulgidce.  family,  which,  in  its  broadest 
sense,  includes  quite  a  variety  of  structural  peculiarities 
and  is  represented  throughout  the  world,  particularly  in 
South  America;  but,  in  the  more  restricted  sense  of  the 
sub-family,  Caprimulgina^  is  well  represented  by  our  two 
genera,  Antrostoimis  and  Chordeiles.  It  is  this  latter  group, 
therefore,  which  we  shall  especially  notice.  As  we  have 
observed,  they  are,  for  the  most  part,  creatures  of  the 


388  THE   CHIMNEY  SWIFT. 

twilight  and  of  the  night,  and  as  such,  to  some  extent,  re- 
semble the  Owls;  as  in  the  size  and  shape  of  the  head — the 
very  diminutive  and  weak  bill  excepted — in  the  soft,  loose 
texture,  and  sombre  colors  of  the  plumage,  and  in  nocturnal 
habits;  while  zoologically,  particularly  in  the  shape  of  the 
wing  and  mouth,  they  are  more  closely  allied  to  the  Swifts. 
Thus  combining  crepuscular  and  nocturnal  habits  with 
great  swiftness  of  flight,  and  a  bat-like  quickness  in  their 
evolutions,  as  also  a  most  capacious  mouth,  extending  to  the 
sides  of  the  head  and  in  most  cases  thickly  supplied  with 
long,  stiff  bristles,  these  Night  Swallows  or  Swifts  are 
especially  adapted,  as  they  "  quarter  the  air "  in  every 
direction,  to  the  destruction  of  nocturnal  insects.  From 
an  erroneous  notion  in  respect  to  the  habits  of  the  European 
representative  of  this  class  of  birds,  the  English  call  it 
"  Goatsucker,"  in  accordance  with  its  old  Latinized  Greek 
name,  Caprimulgus.  The  French,  however,  call  it  by  a  name, 
which  means  wind-swallower,  and  also  by  another,  which 
means  flying  toad. 

Thus  from  some  fact  or  resemblance,  fancied  or  real,  the 
various  objects  in  natural  history  are  made  to  bear  names, 
which,  both  in  common  and  scientific  nomenclature,  sig- 
nalize them,  either  truly  or  falsely,  for  many  generations  at 
least,  and  perhaps  through  all  time. 

THE    CHIMNEY    SWIFT. 

Returning  home  near  night,  by  way  of  the  Ridge,  just  as 
a  severe  rain-storm  is  setting  in,  I  come  to  the  pass  of 
Oak  Orchard  Creek.  Here  is  a  large  stone  building 
which  was  once  a  distillery.  Around  the  top  of  the  enor- 
mous brick  chimney,  which  towers  up  from  this  building,  is 
an  immense  cloud  of  many  hundreds,  perhaps  thousands, 
of  Chimney  Swifts  (Chatura  pelagicd).  They  are  whirling 


THE  CHIMNEY  SWIFT.  389 

and  gyrating  in  swift  evolutions,  the  whole  body  moving 
in  the  same  direction  like  a  feathered  whirlpool,  their 
wings  beating  with  astonishing  rapidity,  and  the  volume  of 
their  sharp  twitter  being  almost  deafening.  As  the  black 
cloud  keeps  whirling,  becoming  more  dense  as  it  nears  the 
chimney-top,  every  few  minutes  a  section  of  the  great  host 
drops  into  it.  I  watch  them  till  by  far  the  greater  number 
have  thus  disappeared.  This  is  a  common  scene  about  the  old 
distillery,  and  may  occur  from  the  time  of  the  arrival  of 
these  birds,  about  the  last  of  April  or  the  first  of  May,  till 
the  time  of  their  departure  in  September.  Thinking  that 
this  chimney  must  be  a  breeding  place,  I  kept  watch  of  it 
from  an  opening  below,  which  gave  a  full  view  of  the  wrhole 
interior,  but  not  a  nest  could  I  at  any  time  detect.  Evi- 
dently it  was  only  a  grand  place  of  rendezvous,  such  as 
these  birds  occasionally  discover  in  various  parts  of  our  coun- 
try. Both  Wilson  and  Audubon  cite  instances  of  immense 
numbers,  even  millions,  resorting  to  some  large  hollow  tree 
as  a  lodging  place,  and  issuing  from  it  at  the  break  of 
day,  in  clouds,  making  a  noise  like  thunder. 

This  Swift  was  formerly  called  a  Swallow,  on  account  of 
certain  general  resemblances.  In  its  more  important  details 
of  affinity,  however,  it  is  now  regarded  by  ornithologists 
as  coming  between  the  Whippoorwills,  and  the  Hum- 
mingbirds. This  arrangement  in  classification  may  show 
the  general  reader  how  wide  and  deep  are  the  gaps  between 
some  of  the  families  of  our  birds. 

As  the  chimney  of  the  old  distillery  continues  to  be  the 
rendezvous  of  the  Swifts  throughout  the  season,  although 
in  diminished  numbers  during  the  time  of  nidification,  I  con- 
clude that  it  is  a  place  of  general  resort  for  the  males,  and  also, 
perhaps,  for  such  females  as  are  not  engaged  in  reproduction. 
This  view,  I  find,  accords  with  that  of  ornithologists  in  general. 


390  THE   CHIMNEY  SWIFT. 

In  the  uncultivated  condition  of  the  country,  this  bird 
placed  its  nest  in  a  hollow  tree,  but,  being  one  of  those 
birds  which  have  taken  advantage  of  the  conveniences  of 
civilization,  it  now  resorts  to  the  chimney,  where,  though 
perhaps  somewhat  discommoded  by  soot  and  occasionally 
by  smoke,  it  is  the  freest  possibly  from  all  its  enemies. 
Look  in,  through  the  stove-pipe  hole  of  that  large,  old-fash- 
ioned chimney,  and  behold  that  cute  little  basket  of  a  nest! 
About  the  size  of  one-half  of  an  ordinary  sauce-dish,  it 
seems  tipped  up  against  its  sooty  wall,  and  holds  long, 
translucent  white  eggs  (.80X-48),  of  which  the  fresh  yolks 
appear  most  elegant  through  the  shell,  and  close  up  to  it. 
How  pretty  they  look  on  those  freshly-broken  twigs,  severed 
from  the  tree  by  the  bird  in  flight,  and  glued  together  with 
saliva!  Scarcely  could  they  have  a  finer  setting  than  is 
afforded  by  that  exquisite  bit  of  rustic  architecture,  remind- 
ing us,  in  the  midst  of  our  artificial  civilization,  of  the  free 
elegance  of  primeval  life. 

Never  shall  I  forget  how  I  was  startled  from  a  sound 
sleep,  one  black  night  of  a  fearful  thunder-storm,  by  a  nest 
of  full-grown  Swifts  which  had  fallen  to  the  bottom  of  a 
bracket-chimney,  and  were  squalling  and  beating  their 
wings  against  the  wall-paper,  stretched  like  a  drum-head 
across  a  stove-pipe  hole.  It  sounded  like  a  flock  of  winged 
imps  in  the  central  space  of  the  room. 

"The  glue-like  substance,"  constituting  so  important  a 
part  in  the  nest-structure,  is  a  viscid  matter  secreted  by 
glands  in  each  side  of  the  head  of  the  bird  and  mixed  with 
its  saliva.  This  is  a  common  product  of  the  Swifts,  and  is 
especially  noted  in  the  case  of  the  edible  nest  of  the  Sea 
Swallow  of  the  Malay  archipelago.  "  It  gathers  from  the  coral 
rocks  of  the  sea  a  glutinous  weed  or  marine  fuscus,  which  it 
swallows  and  afterward  disgorges,  and  then  applies  this 


THE   CHIMNEY  SWIFT.  391 

vomit  with  its  plastic  bill  to  the  sides  of  deep  caverns,  both 
inland  and  on  the  seacoast,  to  form  its  nest.  When  com- 
plete the  nest  is  a  hollow  hemisphere,  of  the  dimensions  of 
an  ordinary  coffee-cup.  When  fresh  made  it  is  of  waxy 
whiteness,  and  is  then  esteemed  most  valuable."  This  in- 
sipid thing  of  Chinese  soups  is  gathered,  at  a  fearful  peril 
of  life,  from  the  caves  of  the  coast  of  India,  and  sold  as  a 
government  monopoly,  sometimes  at  the  enormous  price  of 
$35  per  pound,  or  even  twice  its  weight  in  silver. 

But  to  return  from  this  digression;  wherever  I  go,  one  of 
the  most  distinctive  associations  of  the  early  days  of  spring 
is  the  Chimney  Swift.  Flying  so  high,  that  he  appears  like 
one  of  the  smallest  of  birds,  the  short,  quick  beat  of  his  wings 
and  his  sharp  tsip,  tsip,  tsip,  tsip,  so  rapidly  uttered,  readily 
distinguish  him.  On  handling  him,  you  observe  that  his 
tail,  which  appeared  so  short  when  in  flight,  has  the  quill  of 
each  feather  extended  beyond  the  web,  in  the  form  of  a 
sharp  spine.  This  aids  him  in  alighting  on  the  wall.  The 
Swifts  are  supposed  to  fly  at  the  rate  of  a  thousand  miles 
in  twenty-four  hours.  They  seem  to  spend  nearly  the 
entire  day  on  the  wing,  and  when  caring  for  their  young, 
often  spend  a  great  part  of  the  night  in  bringing  them 
food. 

Some  5.35  long,  the  Chimney  Swift  is  brownish-black, 
lighter  on  the  throat.  Wintering  south  of  the  United  States, 
and  residing  in  summer  throughout  Eastern  North  America 
from  the  Southern  States  northward,  it  reaches  Western 
New  York  the  first  week  in  May,  and  leaves  early  in  October. 

LAKE    VIEW. 

Oak  Orchard  Creek  is  the  principal  water-course  of 
Orleans  County,  N.  Y.  Rising  in  Tonawanda  Swamp, 
which  is  partly  in  Genesee  County,  it  makes  a  curve  of 


392  THE  LONG-BILLED  MARSH    WREN. 

nearly  a  half  circle  in  the  southwestern  part  of  Orleans 
County,  and  enters  Lake  Ontario  a  little  east  of  the  center 
of  the  shore  line  which  bounds  the  county  on  the  north. 
The  stream  is  beautiful,  especially  at  its  mouth,  which  is 
called  Lake  View.  A  drive  along  its  gracefully  curving 
banks,  from  the  Ridge  to  the  lake,  is  a  never-failing  source 
of  pleasure.  Some  forty  or  fifty  feet  high,  these  banks  may 
be  abrupt  walls  of  dark-red  shaly  sand-stone,  not  infre- 
quently streaked  with  bright  green,  sometimes  entirely 
bare,  but  more  frequently  ornamented  with  a  great  variety 
of  beautiful  vines  and  shrubbery;  or  they  may  be  a  fine 
system  of  river-terraces,  showing  the  different  breadths  of 
the  stream  at  certain  periods  of  the  later  ages  of  geological 
history. 

THE    LONG-BILLED    MARSH    WREN. 

In  the  sedges  and  cat-tails,  which  border  the  placid  cur- 
rent as  it  approaches  the  lake,  are  the  breeding  haunts  of 
quite  a  group  of  birds  which  frequent  the  water  and  its 
vicinity  in  this  locality.  As  one  glides  along  these  waters 
in  a  light  skiff,  on  a  fine  June  morning,  admiring  the  trees, 
shrubs, vines  and  wild  flowers  which  adorn  the  graceful  curves 
of  the  bluff  on  either  side,  from  out  the  sedges  and  cat-tails 
there  comes  the  sharp  metallic  twitter  of  the  Long-billed 
Marsh  Wren  (Telmatodytes  palustris).  You  strain  your  eyes 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  utterer  of  these  weird  notes,  but  he 
is  completely  concealed  in  the  tall,  thick  growths,  and 
dodges  about  so  mysteriously  that  you  can  scarcely  keep 
the  direction  of  the  sounds.  There!  Now  he  is  in  plain 
sight,  clinging  sidewise  to  that  huge  cat-tail  overtopped  by 
its  candle-shaped  blossom.  What  a  wee  bit  of  a  bird  he  is, 
seeming  scarcely  larger  than  the  end  of  one's  thumb, 
though,  from  the  tip  of  the  bill  to  the  extremity  of  the  tail, 
he  measures  some  five  inches  or  more;  but  the  ^iead  is  so 


THE  LONG-BILLED  MARSH    WREN.  393 

thrown  up,  and  the  tail  so  thrust  forward,  that  he  assumes 
almost  the  shape  of  an  irregular  ring  or  triangle,  and  so 
quite  deceives  one  as  to  the  length  of  his  slender  body. 
Brown  above,  shading  almost  into  black  on  the  crown  and 
middle  of  the  back;  tail,  barred;  under  parts,  line  over  the 
eye,  and  streaks  on  the  back,  white;  sides,  brownish — he 
bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  rest  of  the  Wrens,  but  is 
readily  distinguishable  by  his  white  breast.  His  flight  is 
short,  and  every  motion  is  exceedingly  quick  and  nervous. 

In  the  tall  bleached  sedges  of  the  previous  year,  this  Wren 
is  very  easily  seen  in  May  or  early  in  June.  Then  he  is 
especially  lively,  hanging  sidewise  to  the  smooth  perpen- 
dicular culms,  or  grasping  two  opposite  ones,  one  in  each 
wiry  foot,  his  legs  stretched  apart  in  a  horizontal  line;  or 
tossing  himself  up  several  feet  into  the  air,  with  head  and 
tail  up,  he  will  drop  down,  with  a  light  and  graceful  flut- 
ter, making  his  very  best  attempt  at  a  song  as  he  thus  de- 
scribes an  abrupt  curve.  That  song  begins  with  a  rather 
harsh  screeping  note,  followed  by  a  rattling  twitter,  and 
ends  in  a  note  very  much  like  that  with  which  it  began. 

Pulling  the  boat  somewhat  into  the  sedges,  we  wade  among 
them  half  way  to  the  knees  in  water.  Here  is  the  nest! 
About  the  size  of  a  common  cocoanut,  it  is  woven  and  in- 
terlaced by  the  dried  and  discolored  leaves  of  the  sedges 
and  marsh-grass,  intermixed  with  vegetable  down,  and 
sometimes  with  an  abundance  of  green  moss,  so  as  to  make 
the  walls  quite  thick  and  firm,  and  is  lined  with  finer  mate- 
rials— perhaps  the  down  from  a  vacated  Duck's  nest  in  the 
neighborhood,  or  the  feathers  of  a  Coot  devoured  by  the 
Marsh  Hawk;  it  has  a  hole  in  the  side,  so  beset  with  down 
as  almost  to  close  it  up — the  artistic  structure  being  hung 
to  the  green  or  dried  sedges  or  marsh-grass  only  a  few 
inches,  or  sometimes  three  or  four  feet  from  the  water.  These 


394  THE  BITTERN. 

nests  are  often  found  in  large  numbers  in  the  same  locality, 
the  greater  part  of  them  being  unoccupied.  "This  has 
occasioned  the  surmise  that  more  nests  are  built  than  are 
actually  used;  the  idea  being  that  the  nervous,  energetic 
little  creatures  keep  on  building,  while  the  females  are  incu- 
bating, to  amuse  themselves,  or  because  they  have  nothing 
particular  to  do  and  cannot  keep  still."  (Coues.)  It  has 
been  well  suggested,  however,  that  the  durability  of  the 
old  nests  may  largely  account  for  the  many  unoccupied 
tenements.  The  eggs,  some  five  or  six,  about  .60X-45,  are 
a  reddish  or  chocolate-brown,  with  still  darker  brown  spots 
and  specks  clouded  and  wreathed  around  the  large  end. 
The  eggs  are  laid  late  in  May  or  early  in  June,  and  again 
late  in  July. 

The  food  of  these  birds  consists  of  such  insects  as  inhabit 
their  aquatic  haunts,  and  "diminutive  mollusks."  "Win- 
tering along  our  southern  borders  and  southward,"  their 
breeding  habitat  is  from  the  Southern  States  to  Massachu- 
setts. They  are  not  reported  from  Northern  New  England, 
nor  did  I  see  any  in  the  many  marshes  of  the  Manitoulin 
Islands.  Reaching  Western  New  York  in  May,  they  leave 
late  in  September  or  in  October. 

THE    BITTERN. 

Standing  still  in  the  border  of  the  sedges,  and  surveying 
a  large  space  of  lily-pods,  I  spy  a  Bittern  (Botaurus  minor]. 
Standing  stock-still  in  a  clump  of  cat-tails,  with  body,  head 
and  neck  in  a  nearly  perpendicular  position,  he  is  almost 
as  straight  as  a  stake,  and  perfectly  motionless.  In  this  atti- 
tude he  continues  for  many  minutes,  no  doubt  enjoying  one 
of  those  contemplative  turns  of  mind,  or  profound  reveries, 
for  which  his  shady  and  silent  ways  have  given  him  such  a 
reputation.  His  present  attitude  is  scarcely  more  common 


THE  BITTERN.  395 

to  him,  however,  than  a  certain  other  in  which  he  is  often 
figured  in  portraits — that  of  standing  on  one  foot,  the  other 
being  drawn  up  under  him,  and  his  neck  so  bent  or  folded  that 
his  head  rests  upon  his  breast,  his  eyes  being  nearly  closed 
and  his  whole  air  that  of  drowsy  .thoughtfulness.  Tired  of 
my  own  position,  and  finding  that  of  the  Bittern  rather 
tedious,  I  clap  my  hands,  when,  with  a  sudden  spring  and  a 
hoarse  haurk,  he  rises  to  a  slow  lumbering  flight,  his  wings 
beating  heavily  and  his  long  legs  dangling  awkwardly  be- 
hind. Flapping  along  just  above  the  cat-tails,  he  drops 
down  out  of  sight  a  few  rods  off.  When  he  rises  high,  his 
flight  is  quick  and  graceful,  and  bears  quite  a  resemblance 
to  that  of  a  Hawk.  His  form  is  that  of  the  Heron  tribe, 
but  his  color  is  peculiar  to  himself  and  his  near  European 
relative.  About  27  inches  long  and  about  45  in  extent  of 
wings,  the  male  a  little  larger  than  the  female,  the  top  of 
the  head  is  brown,  the  long,  loose  feathers  falling  from  the 
back  of  the  head,  over  the  upper  part  of  the  neck,  being 
yellowish-brown;  throat,  white  with  a  light  brown  streak 
through  the  center;  fore-neck,  loose  feathers  on  the  breast, 
and  under  parts,broadly  streaked  with  reddish  and  yellowish- 
brown;  sides  of  the  neck  black;  back,  rich  brown  mixed 
with  black,  and  streaked  with  yellowish  and  grayish;  wings, 
rich  dark  brown,  with  coverts  of  light  yellowish-brown;  the 
whole  upper  parts  being  delicately  penciled  with  darker 
shades;  eyes,  yellow.  The  general  impression  of  the  bird, 
upon  the  eye,  is  that  of  a  yellowish-brown.  The  colors  are 
deeper  in  autumn  than  in  spring,  being  enriched  with  red- 
dish-brown shades.  The  young  lack  the  deep  black  on  the 
sides  of  the  neck.  At  any  time  the  Bittern  is  very  beautiful. 
Shy  and  solitary,  dwelling  in  reedy  marshes  and  their  vicinity, 
he  feeds  on  the  smaller  mollusks  and  crustaceans,  frogs, 
lizards,  little  fishes  and  snakes,  and  such  insects  as  frequent 


396  THE  BITTERN. 

his  watery  abodes.  Like  the  Herons  in  general,  he  prefers 
the  twilight  and  the  night  for  his  excursions,  but  may  be 
seen  abroad  at  any  time  of  day. 

Though  by  no  means  as  noisy  as  his  European  congener, 
in  the  breeding  season,  especially  morning  and  evening,  the 
male  has  a  peculiar  and  startling  vocal  performance,  which 
once  heard  can  never  be  mistaken.  It  may  be  at  least  sug- 
gested by  its  names,  Dunk-a-doo  or  Stake-driver,  the  former 
word  imitating  the  note,  the  latter  naming  an  act  which  resem- 
bles it  in  sound.  Nuttall,  the  great  interpreter  of  bird  notes, 
has  rendered  it  by  the  syllables,  pump-au-gah.  I  can  recall 
it  by  the  syllables,  ponk-ah-gong,  or  kunk-ah-whulnk.  On  St. 
Clair  Flats,  where  this  bird  breeds  in  great  numbers,  these 
weird  notes,  sounding  in  every  direction,  are  characteristic 
of  the  evenings  in  spring  and  early  summer.  The  stake- 
driving  begins  about  three  or  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
continues  on  into  the  night,  and  the  notes  occur  again  dur- 
ing the  early  hours  of  the  morning. 

As  to  the  nidification  of  the  Bittern,  our  early  ornitholo- 
gists, even  Nuttall  and  Audubon,  knew  little  or  nothing,  and 
the  latest  authorities  are  by  no  means  unanimous  or  satis- 
factory; some  affirming  that  it  breeds  in  communities,  others 
that  it  nests  singly,  a  pair  to  a  bog;  some  that  its  nest  is  in 
a  bush  or  a  tree,  or  in  a  tussock  of  grass;  others  that  the 
nest  is  always  on  the  ground;  while  others  still  assert  that 
it  lays  its  eggs  on  the  ground  without  any  nest  whatever.  I 
took  a  nest  the  7th  of  June,  1881,  on  Lacloche  Island  in  the 
northern  part  of  Georgian  Bay.  A  few  rods  from  the  water, 
on  a  rather  rocky  rise  of  ground,  and  in  the  edge  of  a  grove 
of  small  white  birches,  it  was  placed  on  the  ground  among 
weeds  and  ferns,  and  made  of  small  sticks,  coarse  weed-stalks 
and  dried  leaves;  raised  about  two  inches  from  the  ground 
and  12-14  inches  across,  it  was  perfectly  flat  and  contained 


THE  LEAST  BITTERN.  397 

three  brownish-drab  eggs,  measuring  1.90-2.00  X  1.38-1.40, 
pointed  ovate;  incubation  being  well  begun.  I  found  no 
other  nests  or  birds  of  the  kind  in  the  vicinity.  In  my 
recent  studies  on  St.  Clair  Flats,  where  the  nests  were  very 
common,  I  found  some  nests  built  of  the  dried  leaves  of  the 
cat-tails,  placed  on  the  water  and  anchored  among  the 
sedges,  after  the  manner  of  the  Coots,  while  others  consisted 
merely  of  the  tops  of  the  marsh-grass  matted  and  flattened 
over  the  water,  so  slight  and  flat  that  one  wondered  how 
they  could  retain  the  eggs  and  sustain  the  weight  of  the 
bird.  The  nests  were  not  found  in  community.  The  eggs, 
generally  four,  sometimes  five,  some  1.95  x  1.39,  are  a  brown- 
ish or  greenish-drab,  generally  quite  dark,  and  always  dis- 
tinguishable from  any  other  egg.  The  nest  is  well  hidden 
in  the  tall  grass  or  sedges,  and  the  bird,  sitting  with  her  bill 
pointing  almost  straight  up,  is  loth  to  rise,  sometimes  almost 
allowing  one  to  touch  her.  The  long  down,  in  patches  on  the 
young,  is  brownish-yellow,  obscurely  streaked  with  brown, 
and  as  it  is  quite  long  and  plumose,  standing  straight  up 
on  the  head  and  back,  the  little  creatures  are  odd 
enough. 

The  Bittern  ranges  over  all  North  America  to  58°  or  60°, 
•breeding  from  the  Middle  States  northward,  and  wintering 
in  the  Southern  States  and  beyond.  Dr.  Coues  found  it  at 
Washington  in  January.  It  breeds  abundantly  in  some  parts 
of  Maine.  Reaching  New  York  and  Massachusetts  in  April, 
it  leaves  in  October.  It  is  a  good  deal  smaller  than  the 
European  Bittern,  but  bears  quite  a  general  resemblance  to 
it  in  color. 

THE    LEAST    BITTERN. 

I  continue  my  rambles  among  the  sedges.  What  is  that 
yonder,  climbing  up  the  cat-tails  after  the  manner  of  a 
Rail  ?  Having  captured  a  moth,  it  settles  back  into  the 


398  THE  LEAST  BITTERN. 

shallow  water  again,  and  walks  along  sedately,  throwing  its 
head  forward  at  each  step  "as  if  about  to  thrust  its  sharp 
bill  into  some  substance."  It  is  a  Least  Bittern  (Ardetta 
fxilis).  About  a  foot  long  or  more,  wings  only  4-5  inches, 
the  male,  which  is  slightly  crested,  has  the  crown  and  back 
glossy  greenish-black;  hind  neck,  greater  wing-coverts,  and 
outer  webs  of  secondaries,  bright  chestnut;  lesser  wing- 
coverts  and  sides  of  the  neck,  brownish-yellow;  fore-neck 
and  under  parts,  light-yellow  or  yellowish-white;  eyes,  bill, 
and  feet,  yellow.  The  female  has  the  crown  and  back  brown 
and  the  fore  neck  and  breast  streaked  with  brown  and 
brownish-yellow.  Otherwise,  she  is  like  the  male.  Like  the 
Common  Bittern,  they  have  long  feathers  on  the  breast,  but 
do  not  have  the  long,  narrow  feathers  on  the  back,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Herons.  This  is  the  diminutive  or  pigmy  of 
its  race,  having  indeed  the  form  of  a  Heron,  but  to  some 
extent  the  habits  of  a  Rail.  So  narrowly  can  it  compress 
its  body,  that  it  has  been  made  to  walk  between  two  books 
set  on  edge,  only  an  inch  apart.  On  startling  it  I  see  that 
its  flight  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Common  Bittern,  and  like 
the  Herons  in  general,  when  it  rises  high  for  a  long  pull,  it 
folds  its  neck  upon  its  breast  and  stretches  its  long  legs  out 
straight  behind.  Like  the  rest  of  the  Herons,  too,  its  note 
is  a  sort  of  qua,  and  its  food  such  reptiles,  insects  and  fishes 
as  are  found  in  its  habitat  and  come  within  its  capacity. 
It  breeds  rather  commonly  in  the  marshes  of  this  locality, 
generally  nesting  on  some  pile  of  matted  sedges,  but  some- 
times tying  its  nest  in  a  bush  or  clump  of  cat-tails  or  sedges, 
some  18  inches  or  more  from  the  ground.  The  nest  is  flat- 
tish  and  rather  roughly  laid  of  sedges,  dried  grasses  and 
debris,  containing  from  three  to  five  eggs,  elliptical,  about 
1.22  x  1-93,  white,  delicately  tinged  with  green.  The  eggs 
may  be  found  late  in  May  or  early  in  June,  and  there  is  very 


THE    VIRGINIA   RAIL.  399 

good  evidence  that  in  some  cases,  at  least,  a  second  brood 
occurs  about  midsummer. 

Resident  in  the  extreme  Southern  States,  this  bird  breeds 
from  thence  northward. 

THE    VIRGINIA  RAIL. 

Reaching  a  new  territory  of  the  sedges,  I  hear  a  sharp, 
rough  note,  kreck-kreck-kreck-kreck-kreck,  which  I  recognize 
as  that  of  the  Virginia  Rail  (Rallus  virginianus] .  Squatting 
down  in  the  thick  growth,  and  remaining  perfectly  still, 
they  soon  come  within  a  few  feet  of  me.  There  are  two,  a 
male  and  a  female.  Turning  the  head  in  various  positions, 
they  eye  me  very  closely,  but  do  not  seem  at  all  afraid.  I 
have  a  good  opportunity  to  study  not  only  their  elegant 
form  and  colors,  but  also  their  attitudes.  They  are  10 
inches  long,  and  14  from  tip  to  tip  of  the  wings;  the  rather 
long  bill  is  red  shaded  with  black;  cheeks  and  line  over 
the  eye,  ash;  throat  white;  crown  black;  whole  upper  parts 
black  streaked  with  brown;  a  chestnut  spot  on  the  wings; 
whole  under  parts  rich  orange  brown;  flanks  and  vent  black, 
delicately  marked  with  white.  The  female  is  a  little  smaller 
than  the  male,  and  not  quite  so  brightly  colored.  As  is  the 
case  with  the  Rails  generally,  the  young  are  black  when  in 
the  down.  This  species  is  readily  distinguished  from  the 
Common  Rail,  not  only  by  its  color,  but  also  by  its  long 
and  slender  bill.  Arriving  here  late  in  April,  and  extending 
northward  into  the  British  Provinces,  this  bird  remains  with 
us  in  considerable  numbers  until  October,  breeding  quite 
commonly  about  our  marshes.  The  nest,  placed  on  a  mat- 
ted tussock  of  sedges,  is  neatly  laid,  and  well  edged  up, 
containing  some  8  or  10  eggs,  1.25  X. 95,  creamy  white  or 
dark  cream,  specked  and  spotted  all  over,  but  more  especially 
at  the  larger  end,  with  reddish-brown  and  lilac. 


400  THE  KING  RAIL. 

THE    KING    RAIL. 

The  Virginia  Rail  is  indeed  simply  the  "miniature"  of 
the  beautiful  King  Rail  (Rallus  elegans),  which  is  some  six- 
teen or  more  inches  in  length,  and  is  a  rather  southern 
species,  reaching  only  the  Middle  States  to  the  eastward, 
but  extending  even  to  Washington  Territory  on  the  Pacific. 

I  have  taken  it  in  a  marsh  on  the  southern  border  of  Lake 
Ontario.  It  is  found  on  the  south  side  of  Lake  Erie  and 
along  Niagara  River,  and  is  very  abundant  on  St.  Clair 
Flats.  It  is  a  most  elegant  bird,  whose  size,  rich  colors  and 
stately  movements  may  well  designate  him  as  king  of  his 
kind.  The  coloring  may  be  identified  by  that  of  the  Vir- 
ginia Rail,  described  above.  The  voice,  too,  is  similar, 
ordinarily  sounding  like  geek,  geek,  geek,  geek,  being  especially 
audible  at  night,  about  the  ponds  and  sluggish  streams 
around  which  the  bird  takes  up  its  abode.  When  alarmed 
or  its  nest  is  disturbed,  it  emits  a  loud  cry,  like  cairk,  cairk, 
cairk.  The  nest  of  this  species  is  elegant.  Placed  over  the 
water  in  a  large  tuft  of  marsh-grass,  the  bottom  in  the 
water,  the  top  some  eight  inches  above  it,  and  eight  or  ten 
inches  in  external  diameter,  the  whole  is  neatly  laid  of  dried 
grass  well  edged  up,  and  gracefully  sheltered  and  concealed 
by  the  drooping  tops  of  the  tall  marsh-grasses  to  which  it 
is  fastened. 

The  eggs,  ten  or  eleven,  some  1.62x1-20,  are  roundish 
ovate,  of  a  rich  roseate  cream,  sparingly  and  very  distinctly 
spotted  and  specked  with  reddish-brown  and  lilac.  The 
nest  is  easily  identified,  as  the  bird  sits  closely.  The  eggs 
seem  a  little  larger,  brighter,  and  more  ovate  than  those  of 
its  marine  congener,  the  Clapper  Rail.  This  species  is  very 
shy.  Though  one  may  hear  its  sharp  notes  almost  con- 
stantly from  its  reedy  coverts,  it  may  require  much  patient 
watching  to  get  a  good  view  of  it. 


THE  KING  RAIL.  40 j 

The  King  Rail,  again,  is  very  similar  to  the  Clapper  Rail 
(Rallus  crepitans,  or  longirostris},  simply  a  little  larger  and 


THE   CLAPPER   RAIL. 

brighter,  and  more  beautiful  in  color.  The  notorious  noise 
of  the  latter,  so  common  to  marshes  of  the  Atlantic  States 
to  New  York,  is  very  much  like  that  of  the  guinea-fowl, 
while  its  nidification  is  similar  to  that  of  the  virginianus  and 
elegans.  The  Clapper  Rail  is  not  only  noticeably  smaller 
than  the  King  Rail,  but  the  upper  parts  have  a  more  ashy 
and  colder  coloring,  while  the  lower  parts  are  duller  and 
more  yellowish. 

How  perfect  is  the  law  of  adaptation  in  nature,  and  how 
wonderful  are  family  traits.  The  natural  world  is  not  a 
medley,  but  a  system,  in  which  families  and  orders  are 
grouped  in  beautiful  consistency  of  place,  structure  and 
habit.  Among  the  sedges  and  cat-tails  of  our  marshes  is 
this  strongly  marked  family  of  birds,  the  Rails;  with  wings 
apparently  too  short  and  weak  for  extended  flight,  and  yet 
performing  wonders  in  the  time  of  migration;  not  only  with 
a  body  proportioned  and  balanced  for  running,  but  capable 
of  compression  to  the  narrowness  of  a  wedge,  in  order 
26 


402  THE   COMMON  GALLINULE. 

to  pass  readily  through  the  thick  growths  of  the  marshes, 
as  also  to  aid  them,  perhaps,  in  their  peculiar  habit  of  walk- 
ing on  the  bottom  under  the  water  in  search  of  food;  with 
large  feet  and  long  toes,  in  order  to  support  their  steps  on 
soft  mire  and  floating  vegetation,  and  with  legs  long  and 
muscular  they  run  like  very  witches  in  their  reedy  maizes, 
and  were  it  not  for  their  sharp  cackling  voices,  their  pres- 
ence would  scarcely  be  detected,  though  the  marshes  swarm 
with  their  gregarious  multitudes. 

The  three  Rails  here  mentioned,  virginianus,  crepitans  and 
elegans,  constitute  the  genus  Rallus;  feeding  on  animal  food, 
which  they  take  out  of  the  water,  they  have  longer  bills  than 
the  genus  Porza?ia,  which  feeds  more  particularly  on  float- 
ing vegetation. 

THE   COMMON    GALLINULE. 

Rowing  further  up  stream  to  another  tract  of  sedges,  I 
am  attracted  by  a  spirited  cackle  something  like  that  of  the 
guinea-fowl,  cray,  cray,  cray,  cray;  and  cow,  cow,  cow,  cow,  cow, 
the  first  syllable  of  each  strain  drawn  out,  and  the  rest 
quite  rapid,  while  occasionally  there  is  something  like  a 
musical  shake  on  a  reed  instrument,  decidedly  pleas- 
ing. Concealing  myself  as  much  as  possible,  I  strain 
my  eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and  presently 
see  the  Common  Gallinule  (Gallenula  galleatd)  leading 
about  her  newly-hatched  brood.  The  water  is  about  a 
foot  deep,  and  they  are  all  swimming  around  in  the  more 
open  places  among  the  sedges.  Some  12-15  inches  long, 
and  so  nearly  the  shape  of  the  Rails  as  to  be  placed  in  the 
same  family  with  them;  head,  neck  and  under  parts,  grayish- 
black;  upper  parts,  black  tinged  with  olive;  bill  and  frontal 
piece  extending  up  from  the  bill,  bright  red — this  bird 
looks  like  a  small  dark-colored  hen.  The  newly  hatched 


THE   COMMON  GALLINULE.  403 

young  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  black  chickens,  both 
from  their  appearance  and  from  their  notes.  A  more  care- 
ful examination  of  the  Gallinule  reveals  a  little  white  on  the 
under  tail-coverts  and  on  the  edges  of  the  wings  and  flanks, 
while  the  greenish  feet  and  legs  are  ornamented  by  a  red 
ring,  just  below  the  feathers  of  the  thigh;  and  the  toes  are 
margined  by  a  membrane,  more  or  less  lobed,  somewhat 
after  the  manner  of  the  Grebes  and  Phalaropes.  As  to  food 
and  general  habit,  this  bird  is  very  similar  to  the  Rails, 
while  its  color,  frontal  plate,  and  lobed  toes  clearly  differ- 
entiate it. 

A  little  later  in  the  day,  as  I  approach  a  long  reach  of 
lily-pods  surrounded  by  sedges,  I  discover  a  pair  of 
Gallinules  on  a  log  partially  out  of  water.  They  are  sta- 
tioned one  on  each  end  of  the  log,  with  nine  little  black 
chicks  strung  along  between  them;  and  these  latter  the 
parents  are  busily  feeding  with  something  which  they  take 
from  the  water.  A  beautiful  sight  is  this  happy  family  in 
their  own  quiet  haunts!  Without  any  malicious  purpose, 
but  simply  to  get  nearer,  I  get  into  my  boat  and  row  rap- 
idly toward  them.  As  I  press  closely  upon  them  the  parents 
fly  for  safety,  and  the  little  ones,  just  hatched,  leave  the  log, 
run  for  some  distance  on  the  lily-pods,  then  take  to  swim- 
ming, and,  finally,  as  my  boat  glides  among  them,  they  all 
disappear  as  suddenly  as  young  Partridges  in  the  woods. 
Backing  out,  I  quit  the  spot  as  soon  as  possible,  and  retak- 
ing my  point  of  observation,  watch  the  anxious  parents 
return  with  coaxing  notes  and  gather  together  the  scat- 
tered family,  which,  readily  responding  to  the  call,  come 
peeping  from  their  hiding-places  in  different  directions. 

These  birds,  which  swim,  dive  or  run  upon  the  lily-pods 
with  equal  ease,  are  to  be  associated  with  still  waters, 
and  with  that  queen  of  our  ponds  and  lakes,  the  sweet- 


404  THE   COMMON  GALLINULE. 

scented  water-nymph.  No  infant  of  a  royal  household 
ever  sported  under  a  more  beautiful  canopy  than  is  found 
by  these  Gallinule-chicks,  beneath  the  snowy  wreath  of 
odorous  petals  and  central  crown  of  gold,  standing  like  an 
elegant  sun-shade  in  that  quiet  nook  which  mirrors  the 
bluff  and  the  surrounding  landscape. 

The  nest  of  the  Common  Gallinule  is  usually  built  on 
shallow  water,  among  the  sedges  and  marsh-grass  to  which  it 
is  fastened.  About  10  or  12  inches  in  diameter,  and  continued 
6  or  8  inches  above  the  surface  of  the  water,  often  with  an 
inclination  on  one  side,  like  a  platform,  for  walking  up  from 
the  water,  this  elegant  raft,  made  of  the  leaves  of  cat- 
tails, sedges  and  marsh-grass,  is  neatly  hollowed  like  a 
saucer  on  the  top,  and  contains  9-14  eggs,  1.75x1.20- 
1.85  X  1.25,  more  or  less  tinged  with  light-brown  and  specked 
and  spotted,  especially  around  the  large  end,  with  a  shade 
of  reddish-brown,  often  resembling  iron-rust. 

Arriving  here,  from  the  region  of  the  Gulf  Coast,  in  April, 
they  remain  until  October,  breeding  abundantly  in  suitable 
places.  They  are  very  abundant  on  St.  Clair  Flats,  and  on 
Fighting  Island,  south  of  Detroit,  and  are  common  resi- 
dents in  Western  New  York ;  but  I  do  not  think  they 
extend  regularly  far  north  of  the  south  shores  of  the  lower 
Great  Lakes.  In  Maine  and  the  Maritime  Provinces,  they 
are  simply  accidental. 

In  the  South  Atlantic  and  Gulf  States,  but  sometimes 
straggling  even  to  New  Brunswick,  is  the  beautiful  Purple 
Gallinule  (Porphyrio  martinica) ,  described  by  Dr.  Coues  as 
follows  :  "  Head,  neck  and  under  parts  beautiful  purplish- 
blue,  blackening  on  the  belly,  the  crissum  white  ;  above, 
olivaceous-green,  the  cervix  and  wing  coverts  tinted  with 
blue ;  frontal  shield,  blue  ;  bill,  red,  tipped  with  yellow ; 
legs,  yellowish.  Young,  with  the  head,  neck  and  lower 


THE    COOT.  405 

back  brownish,  the  under  parts  mostly  white,  mixed  with 
ochrey.  Length,  10-12  inches."  The  habits  of  this  elegant 
bird  are,  without  doubt,  similar  to  those  of  its  plainer  rela- 
tive just  described. 

THE  COOT. 

Somewhat  larger,  but  very  similar  to  the  Gallinules  in 
structure  and  habit,  and  strikingly  like  the  Common  Galli- 
nule  in  color,  is  the  Coot  (Fulica  americana).  In  color  it 
differs  from  the  Common  Gallinule,  however,  in  being 
blacker  about  the  head  and  neck,  and  lacking  the  olivaceous 
tint  on  the  back.  Its  bill,  too,  is  white  or  light  flesh-color, 
with  a  tendency  to  a  dark  or  dusky  ring  near  the  tip; 
and  the  tibia  lacks  the  red  ring.  Quite  common  in  the 
migrations,  it  arrives  here  in  April,  and  returns  south  in 
October.*  Its  breeding  habitat  is  from  Northern  New 
England,  the  Great  Lakes  and  corresponding  latitudes, 
northward.  It  breeds  in  such  abundance  as  to  be  the  char- 
acteristic bird  on  St.  Clair  Flats,  where  they  are  as  common 
as  hens  in  a  farm-yard.  The  nest  is  in  reedy  pools  or  shal- 
low water  about  rivers,  lakes  and  ponds,  composed  of  dried 
grasses  and  sedges,  after  the  manner  of  the  Rails  and  Gal- 
linules, sometimes  tied  to  the  tall  clumps  of  sedges,  and  yet 
resting  on  a  mass  of  floating  debris;  sometimes  resting  on 
the  dry  ground  near  their  watery  abodes.  On  St.  Clair 
Flats  it  is  a  floating  nest  anchored  to  the  cat-tails  and 
sedges,  resembling  that  of  the  Common  Gallinule,  but  gen- 
erally placed  further  out  in  the  flooded  marshes,  toward  the 
channels  and  the  lake.  Some  12  inches  in  external  diameter 
and  rising  about  8  inches  above  the  water,  it  is  almost 
invariably  built  of  the  dried  and  bleached  leaves  of  the  cat- 
tail; the  saucer-shaped  interior  being  often  lined  with  fine 

*  It  is  said  to  appear  in  the  Mississippi  in  thousands  during  the  migrations,  and  to  breed 
in  immense  numbers  in  Northern  Minnesota  and  Dakota. 


406  THE   COOT. 

marsh-grass.  Like  that  of  the  Gallinule,  the  nest  often  has 
a  gradual  inclination  on  one  side,  forming  a  convenience 
for  the  bird  to  enter  from  the  water.  So  free  is  the  motion 
of  this  nest,  that  it  may  rise  and  fall  with  the  changes  of 
water-level,  or  rock  in  the  storm  with  perfect  safety.  The 
eggs,  some  9-14,  1.87X1.27-2.00X1.30,  are  slightly  tinged 
with  brown,  being  very  minutely  specked  and  spotted  all 
over  with  black  or  dark  brown,  and  so  nearly  the  color  of 
the  bleached  material  on  which  they  are  laid,  as  scarcely  to 
be  discernible  at  any  considerable  distance.  The  bird  does 
not  sit  very  closely,  but  running  on  the  debris  or  water  for 
a  few  feet,  takes  wing  with  a  peculiar  splatter,  never  rising 
high  or  flying  far.  When  swimming,  the  Coot  will  often 
allow  an  approach  within  shot-range,  then  starting  on  a 
run  on  the  water,  it  will  rise  into  the  air  gradually  with  a 
spatting,  splattering  noise,  which  soon  becomes  very  familiar 
and  distinguishable  to  the  ear.  Often  shaking  the  large 
lobed  feet  when  clear  of  the  water,  it  flies  with  the  bill 
pointing  down  and  the  feet  bending  upward,  its  broad 
wings  differing  much  from  those  of  the  Ducks;  and  its  near 
splash  into  the  water  being  about  as  peculiar  to  itself  as  is 
its  noise  on  rising.  Very  properly  do  the  western  hunters 
call  this  bird  the  "  Splatterer."  When  the  black  clouds  of 
a  near  thunder-storm  are  overhead,  his  white  bill,  in  front 
of  its  black  head,  becomes  very  conspicuous,  fairly 
gleaming  for  whiteness.  It  is  decidedly  a  noisy  bird,  its 
coo-coo-coo-coo-coo  being  heard  both  day  and  night,  the  first 
note  being  prolonged  on  a  much  higher  key,  while  the  rest 
are  somewhat  accelerated.  It  will  often  squack  similar  to 
a  Duck,  and  has  other  notes  too  unique  and  difficult  of 
description  to  be  given  here.  The  Coot  is  quite  playful  on 
the  water,  and  when  the  male  stretches  his  neck  forward, 
partly  elevates  his  wings  like  the  Swan,  and  spreads  his 


THE   COOT.  40? 

tail,  showing  the  white  underneath,  he  is  quite  a  beauty,  no 
doubt,  in  the  eyes  of  the  female. 

In  walking,  and  often  in  swimming,  its  head  is  moved 
backward  and  forward  like  that  of  the  Common  Hen,  so 
that  it  frequently  appears,  while  swimming,  as  if  walking  in 
the  water.  The  young  are  black,  with  a  tinge  of  rust-red 
about  the  head  and  neck. 

As  the  food  of  this  bird  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Rails 
and  the  more  edible  Ducks,  it  is  in  fair  demand  for  the 
table.  Dall  reports  it  from  Alaska,  and  Reinhardt  from 
Greenland,  while  its  winter  habitat  is  in  the  Southern  States, 
and  may  extend  to  the  West  Indies  and  Central  America. 
South  America  has  a  closely-allied  species. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 
GEORGIAN  BAY. 

C*  EORGIAN  Bay  lies  northeast  of  Lake  Huron,  and  has  ex- 
^J  tensive  communication  with  it  between  Great  Manitou- 
lin  Island  and  Cape  Hurd,  as  also  about  the  mouth  of  St. 
Mary's  River  to  the  north.  This  bay  is  nearly  as  large  as 
Lake  Ontario,  and  contains  islands  almost  innumerable, 
Great  Manitoulin,  some  eighty  miles  long,  leading  in  size, 
and  the  rest  presenting  every  variety  of  extent  down  to 
mere  rocky  shoals.  Having  pitched  my  tent  at  Little  Cur- 
rent, a  village  and  steamboat  landing  on  a  northeastern  point 
of  Great  Manitoulin,  I  make  excursions  in  a  small  boat  to 
various  points  of  interest  in  the  vicinity,  to  identify  the 
plants  and  to  note  the  fossils  in  the  lower  silurian  rocks 
of  these  islands,  but  more  particularly  to  study  the  nidifi- 
cation  of  the  birds  in  the  locality.  Fossils  are  abundant, 
and  there  is  such  a  variety  of  wild  flowers,  that  many  of  the 
islands  appear  like  immense  flower  gardens,  very  many  of 
the  plants  being  different  from  those  of  Western  New 
York. 

THE    GOOSANDER. 

Here  I  find  nearly  all  the  Sparrows,  breeding,  especially 
the  White-throat;  the  Thrushes  are  very  well  represented; 
our  beautiful  family  of  Warblers  is  varied  and  numerous; 
both  the  Ruffed  Grouse  and  the  Spruce  Partridge  breed 
here;  the  Eagle's  nest  is  not  uncommon;  and  some  of  the 


THE   GOOSANDER.  409 

Gulls  and  Terns  breed  in  immense  numbers.  I  am  disap- 
pointed, however,  in  respect  to  the  Ducks.  Excepting  the 
Dusky  Duck,  very  few  kinds  spend  the  summer  on  the  bay. 
Our  three  kinds  of  Merganser  breed  here,  however,  the 
Goosander  (Mergus  merganser),  quite  commonly.  During 
this  month  of  June  there  is  scarcely  a  day  in  which  the  con- 
spicuous female  does  not  fly  out  from  some  nook  or  point 
as  the  boat  passes;  and  occasionally  a  group  of  males  are 
seen,  which,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Ducks  proper,  leave  the 
female  after  incubation  commences,  and  spend  their  time 
in  small  flocks  in  the  most  leisurely  manner.  In  a  very  few 
cases  male  and  female  are  surprised  together.  Probably 
these  are  instances  in  which  incubation  has  not  yet  begun, 
or,  some  accident  having  befallen  the  sitting  female,  she 
has  managed  to  recall  her  mate  preparatory  to  a  new  litter 
of  eggs. 

The  male  of  this  species,  about  24  inches  long,  has  the 
slightly  crested  head  and  the  upper  half  of  the  neck  glossy 
green;  back,  tertiaries  and  primaries,  black;  the  rest  of  the 
wing  white,  with  a  black  bar  nearly  across  the  coverts,  and 
the  secondaries  edged  with  black;  lower  back,  beautifully 
penciled  gray;  tail  ashy;  lower  neck  and  under  parts  white, 
the  latter  delicately  and  richly  tinged  with  salmon;  bill,  iris 
and  feet,  bright  red.  The  female  is  a  little  smaller,  has  the 
more  crested  head  and  upper  half  of  the  neck,  a  light  chest- 
nut red;  upper  parts  generally  ashy  gray,  with  less  white  in 
the  wing;  under  parts  resembling  the  male,  but  with  a 
lighter  salmon.  As  she  flies,  the  red  head  and  the  white  in 
the  wings  are  especially  noticeable. 

In  nidification,  the  Goosander  seems  to  have  a  partiality 
for  small  islands,  of  which  Georgian  Bay  and  the  St.  Law- 
rence River,  both  favorite  breeding  places  of  this  species, 
are  so  full.  The  nest,  sometimes  on  the  ground  among  the 


410  THE   GOOSANDER. 

rushes  or  sedges,  and  near  the  water,  is  rather  bulky,  made 
of  dried  weeds  and  grasses,  finished  with  fibrous  roots,  and 
lined  with  the  bird's  own  soft  down. 

In  the  Georgian  Bay  region,  as  also  throughout  Canada, 
and  I  think  also  in  New  England,  the  Goosander  generally 
breeds  in  holes  in  trees,  after  the  manner  of  the  Wood  Duck 
and  the  Hooded  Merganser.  In  Norway  and  Sweden,  the 
fact  that  this  species  breeds  in  the  above  manner  is  well  es- 
tablished. Having  been  misled  by  Audubon's  statement, 
implying  that  its  nest  is  invariably  on  the  ground,  I  lost 
much  time  in  my  earlier  searches  for  it. 

The  eggs,  generally  7  or  8,  some  3.00  X  2.00,  are  oval, 
smooth,  and  of  a  rich  cream  color.  As  in  the  eggs  of  all 
the  Mergansers,  and  also  those  of  the  Ducks,  the  smooth 
finish  and  clear  creamy  tint  are  strongly  characteristic.  As 
soon  as  the  young  are  hatched  they  are  led  to  the  water,  as 
is  the  case  with  all  the  swimming  birds.  They  are  an  ele- 
gant little  flock,  having  the  exact  colors  of  the  female — 
chestnut  head  and  ashen  gray  upper  parts — while  yet  in 
their  softest  down.  How  gracefully  they  swim  at  once,  and 
dive  like  little  witches.  When  they  are  a  few  weeks  old  it 
will  puzzle  any  boatman  to  capture  them.  Nothing  can 
surpass  the  assiduity  of  the  mother  bird  in  caring  for  them. 
How  gently  she  leads  and  feeds  them,  teaching  them  as  soon 
as  possible  to  secure  their  own  food. 

Migrating  in  small  flocks,  as  the  winter  approaches,  the 
Goosanders,  Sheldrakes  or  Saw-bills,  for  they  are  known  by 
all  these  names,  spread  throughout  the  Union,many,  however, 
going  just  far  enough  south  to  secure  open  places  in  the 
streams  for  feeding.  Here  they  will  come  from  time  to  time 
during  the  coldest  weather,  and  take  their  repast,  sometimes 
showing  but  little  of  that  fear  of  man  so  characteristic  of 
the  swimming  birds  in  general.  The  bright  red  of  their  feet 


THE   GOOSANDER.  411 

and  bills  is  suggestive  of  suffering  cold,  amidst  the  snow 
and  ice,  but  their  feet  and  legs  contain  no  carneous  or  fleshy 
substance,  only  white,  bloodless  tendons,  nearly  void  of  feel- 
ing; so  this  color,  reminding  one  of  chilblained  hands,  is  only 
a  delusion.  The  best  cow-hide  boots  and  woolen  stockings 
could  scarcely  make  our  feet  more  comfortable  than  are  those 
of  a  Goosander  on  the  coldest  winter  day,  while  his  closely 
imbricated  feathers,  with  a  heavy  coat  of  down  at  base  and 
well  oiled  at  the  surface,  far  surpassing  any  suit  of  rubber, 
keep  out  every  drop  of  water.  At  this  time  of  year  male 
and  female  are  generally  seen  together,  though  it  is  not  al- 
ways easy  to  distinguish  the  latter,  as  it  takes  the  male  some 
two  years  to  reach  the  final  colors  of  his  sex.  In  the  early 
spring,  flocks  consisting  entirely  of  the  old  or  mature  males 
may  be  seen  about  our  lakes  and  streams.  They  are  then 
probably  on  their  way  from  the  south,  and,  as  is  common 
with  many  other  birds  in  the  migrations,  are  preceding  the 
females.  The  bright  salmon  of  their  under  parts  gives 
them  almost  a  rosy  appearance  as  they  rise  from  the  water 
amidst  snow-banks  and  floating  ice.  About  this  time, 
however,  many  may  be  seen  in  single  pairs,  the  sexes 
having,  for  the  most  part,  chosen  partners  for  the  season. 
Though  the  Goosander  can  walk  and  run  well  on  land, 
his  home  is  on  the  water.  Here,  as  an  expert  diver,  he  pro- 
cures his  food,  of  small  fishes,  little  mollusks  and  crustaceans, 
and  frogs,  of  which  he  devours  great  quantities.  For  capt- 
uring fishes,  which  he  raises  out  of  the  water  and  swal- 
lows head  foremost,  the  sharply  and  backwardly  serrated 
edges  of  his  bill  are  particularly  adapted.  This  bird  is 
fond  of  plunging  beneath  rushing  currents  for  its  food,  and 
should  it  encounter  a  raft  of  floating  rubbish  or  an  ice- 
cake,  it  will  readily  pass  underneath  it.  It  swims  so  deeply 
as  to  afford  the  gunner  but  a  small  mark,  and  dives  so 


412  THE  HOODED  MERGANSER. 

quickly  at  the  snap  or  flash  of  his  gun,  that  he  stands  but  a 
small  chance  of  killing  it. 

On  being  surprised,  the  Goosander  may  rise  directly  out 
of  the  water,  but  more  commonly  pats  the  surface  with  his 
feet  for  some  yards,  and  then  rises  to  windward.  A  whole 
flock,  thus  rising  from  some  foaming  current,  affords  a 
spirited  scene.  Once  on  the  wing,  the  flight  is  straight, 
strong  and  rapid. 

Though  Richardson  reported  the  Goosander  as  abundant 
in  the  fur  countries,  Audubon  did  not  find  it  in  Labrador  or 
Newfoundland,  where  its  congener,  the  Red-breast,  breeds 
in  abundance.  Though  it  is  common  alike  to  the  salt  and 
fresh  waters  of  North  America,  Europe  and  Asia,  never  look 
for  it  in  turbid  water.  Its  voice,  which  is  simply  a  hoarse 
croak,  is  rarely  to  be  heard  except  from  the  female  as  she 
rises  from  her  nest  on  being  surprised,  or  seeks  to  extricate 
her  young  from  some  sudden  danger. 

THE     HOODED     MERGANSER. 

During  this  month  of  June,  I  occasionally  see  the  ele- 
gant Hooded  Merganser  (Mergus  cucullatus)  on  the  more 
open  parts  of  this  northern  extremity  of  the  bay.  Here 
it  is  so  exceedingly  shy  that  I  am  obliged  to  study  it  in 
the  distance,  with  the  aid  of  a  glass.  What  an  elegant 
creature  the  male  is  !  About  18  inches  or  upward  in 
length,  he  has  a  large  semicircular  crest  of  long,  loose 
feathers,  so  compressed,  laterally,  that  it  assumes  a  thin 
edge,  thus  giving  the  head  a  large  circular  appearance 
from  the  side,  and  making  the  slender  bill,  so  peculiar  to  the 
Mergansers  and  differentiating  them  at  first  sight  from 
the  Ducks,  to  appear  particularly  diminutive.  The  head, 
neck,  back,  two  crescents  in  front  of  the  wings,  and  two 
bars  in  the  speculum  are  jet-black;  crest,  excepting  the 


THE  NASHVILLE    WARBLER.  413 

black  edge,  speculum,  stripes  in  the  tertiaries,  and  under 
parts,  white;  sides,  dark  chestnut,  finely  penciled  with 
black;  iris,  yellow.  The  female,  somewhat  smaller,  has 
the  head  and  neck  brown;  upper  parts  blackish-brown, 
many  of  the  feathers  being  edged  with  lighter;  the  small  spec- 
ulum and  under  parts,  white.  The  young  are  brown;  and  as 
they  swim,  their  motion  is  so  rapid  that  "their  pink 
feet  are  like  swiftly-revolving  wheels  placed  a  little  in  the 
rear,"  "  and  the  water  is  beaten  into  spray  behind  them." 

In  habit,  as  well  as  in  the  structure  of  its  serrated  bill, 
this  bird  is  a  genuine  Merganser.  It  is  an  expert  diver,  and 
feeds  principally  on  fish.  It  is  partial  to  fresh  waters,  and 
therefore  is  rather  rare  on  the  Atlantic  Coast,  while  it  is 
abundant  on  the  fresh  waters  in  the  interior  of  Florida  in 
winter,  common  on  our  lakes  and  streams  in  migration,  and 
very  abundant  on  the  great  water-courses  of  the  northwest. 
In  winter  it  has  about  the  range  of  the  preceding,  and  it 
breeds  more  or  less  from  the  Southern  States  northward  into 
the  fur  countries. 

Its  nest  is  in  holes  in  trees,  after  the  manner  of  the  Wood 
Duck,  and  is  similarly  composed.  The  6-10  eggs,  about 
2.12  x  1.72,  are  smooth,  rather  spherical,  and  of  a  creamy 
white  color.  This  species  breeds  abundantly  in  some  of 
the  Western  States  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Mississippi.  The 
flight  of  this  bird  is  so  swift  that  it  is  very  difficult  to 
shoot  it  on  the  wing,  and  it  has  occasionally  been  found 
in  Europe. 

THE    NASHVILLE    WARBLER. 

About  four  miles  and  a  half  east  of  Little  Current  is 
Strawberry  Island,  comprising  about  three  thousand  acres. 
Having  heard  that  certain  Ducks  breed  there  in  the  marshes, 
I  make  an  excursion  thither  on  the  7th  of  June.  Scrambling 
along  the  edge  of  a  marsh,  where  the  thickly  strewn  wind- 


414  THE  NASHVILLE    WARBLER. 

falls  of  cedar  make  my  way  exceedingly  difficult,  as  I  stum- 
ble and  nearly  fall,  striking  the  muzzle  of  my  gun  on  the 
fallen  timber,  a  Nashville  Warbler  (Helminthophaga  rufica- 
pilla)  flutters  over  a  pile  of  rubbish  with  that  peculiar 
tremor  of  the  wings  which  every  oologist  well  understands. 
Knowing  that  this  is  a  ground-builder,  I  make  diligent 
search  for  the  nest  throughout  many  square  feet  around  me, 
but  all  in  vain.  Meanwhile  the  bird  lingers  in  the  thick 
bushes  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  uttering  the  soft,  whistling 
tsip,  quite  peculiar  to  itself.  Fearing  lest  I  may  crush  with 
my  foot  the  hidden  treasure  for  which  I  am  searching,  I  re- 
tire a  few  rods  and  hide  in  the  bushes,  hoping  to  detect  the 
nest  by  means  of  the  bird's  return.  Presently  she  ceases 
her  soft  alarm-note,  and,  flitting  coyly  along,  drops  down 
out  of  sight  very  near  the  place  where  I  first  saw  her. 
Slowly  and  softly  I  approach  the  site,  but  again  she  is  on 
the  wing  before  I  can  detect  her  starting  point,  and  again 
I  fail  to  find  the  nest.  Once  more  I  go  back,  and,  hiding  in  the 
bushes  amidst  a  tormenting  cloud  of  mosquitoes,  await  a 
much  more  tardy  return  of  the  bird.  But  I  see  now,  very 
nearly,  where  she  settles  into  the  nest,  and  dropping  gun 
and  all,  and  approaching  with  the  utmost  stealthiness, 
I  take  into  my  eye  the  little  tract  of  ground  which  must 
contain  the  mystery,  and  clapping  my  hands  by  way  of 
alarm,  I  discover  this  time  exactly  where  the  bird  flies  out. 
Parting  the  dried  grasses  which  trail  thickly  along  by  the 
roots  of  a  little  bush,  I  find  the  nest — a  frail,  shallow,  little 
affair,  of  fine  dried  grasses,  lined  with  bright-red  stems  or 
pedicels  of  moss-capsules,  and  a  black  vegetable  production, 
looking  as  if  plucked  from  a  man's  beard — perhaps  old 
moss-pedicels  blackened  from  the  weather;  evidently  no  an- 
imal product,  from  the  manner  in  which  it  burns  when  held 
in  a  flame.  This  slight  structure  is  tucked  away  in  a  thick 


THE  NASHVILLE    WARBLER.  415 

bunch  of  hypnum  mosses,  so  that  I  take  up  the  moss  as  a 
part  of  the  nest.  The  5  eggs,  well  on  in  incubation,  about 
.62X.50,  are  clear  white,  sparsely  specked  and  spotted  all 
over  with  light-red  and  reddish-brown,  the  markings  thick- 
ening into  blotches  at  the  large  end. 

This  instance  of  nidification  agrees  remarkably,  especially 
in  the  size  and  appearance  of  the  eggs,  with  two  instances 
of  that  of  the  same  species  reported  by  Mr.  Allen,  from 
Massachusetts,  with  others,  more  recently,  by  Mr.  Peckham, 
of  Rhode  Island — the  characteristics  being  that  the  nest, 
which  occurs  early  in  the  season,  late  in  May  or  early  in 
June,  is  on  the  ground,  and  well  concealed,  having  the  eggs, 
some  .62X.50,  milk-white,  and  moderately  marked  with 
reddish  tints. 

The  song  of  this  species  is  common  about  Manitoulin 
and  Strawberry  Islands,  and  does  not  resemble  that  of  the 
Chestnut- side,  which  may  be  heard  in  contrast  with  it  at 
almost  any  time.  The  song  of  the  Nashville  Warbler  is  a 
composition,  the  first  half  of  which  is  as  nearly  as  possible 
like  the  thin  but  penetrating  notes  of  the  Black-and-white 
Creeping  Warbler,  while  the  last  half  is  like  the  twitter  of 
the  Chipping  Sparrow.  As  such  a  composition,  its  discov- 
ery has  been  exceedingly  interesting  to  me;  and  may  be 
imitated  by  the  syllables,  ke-tsee-ke-tsee-ke-tsee-chip-ee-chip-ee- 
chip-ee-chip. 

About  4.50  long,  olivaceous  above,  yellow  beneath,  head 
slate,  somewhat  obscurely  crowned  with  dark  chestnut,  its 
slender  and  very  sharp  bill,  without  notch  or  bristle,  declares 
it  to  be  one  of  the  Helminthophaga  genus.  The  sexes  have  a 
very  close  resemblance,  the  female  being  simply  a  little 
lighter  and  more  obscure  in  color  and  marking. 

Seeming  to  winter  in  Mexico,  this  species  passes  through 
Western  New  York  as  a  common  migrant  the  first  week  in 


416  THE   ORANGE-CROWNED    WARBLER, 

May,  and  breeds  from  New  England  northward  to  high 
latitudes,  going  casually  even  to  Greenland.  It  is  also 
reported  from  the  Pacific  Coast. 

THE    ORANGE-CROWNED    WARBLER. 

Belonging  to  this  same  genus,  and  very  similar  in  size 
and  coloration,  is  the  Orange-crowned  Warbler  (Helmin- 
thophaga  celata).  But  while  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  the 
immature  birds,  in  complete  plumage,  the  difference  is  quite 
appreciable.  In  the  case  of  the  Orange-crown,  the  oliva- 
ceous of  the  upper  parts,  and  especially  the  yellow  of  the 
under  parts,  is  not  so  bright  as  in  the  Nashville  Warbler;  be- 
sides, it  lacks  the  ashy  on  the  head,  so  conspicuous  in  the  lat- 
ter, and  instead  of  dark  chestnut,  the  crown  is  a  rather  pale 
orange.  Sometimes  this  latter  mark  is  entirely  wanting.  On 
the  whole,  Orange-crown  appears  a  little  the  larger  of  the 
two.  Common  in  Florida  during  the  winter,  it  migrates  but 
rarely  into  the  Northeastern  States,  but  becomes  common 
to  the  west  and  northwest,  and  even  abundant  along  the 
Pacific  Coast. 

"A  nest  of  the  Orange-crowned  Warbler,  taken  June  12, 
1860,  by  Mr.  Kennicott,  at  Fort  Resolution,  Great  Slave 
Lake,  was  built  on  the  ground  inside  of  a  bank  among 
open  bushes,  and  was  much  hidden  by  dry  leaves.  It  con- 
tained five  eggs.  This  nest  is  built  outwardly  of  fibrous 
strips  of  bark,  interiorly  of  fine  grasses,  without  any  other 
lining.  The  eggs  are  very  finely  dotted  all  over — thickly 
about  the  large  end,  more  sparsely  elsewhere — with  pale 
brown.  They  measure  about  .67  X-50."  (Coues.) 

The  Tennessee  Warbler  {Helminthophaga  peregrind)  is  a 
delicate  beauty,  bearing  some  resemblance  to  the  last  two. 
It  is  quite  rare  in  these  eastern  regions,  but  common  to  the 
westward,  even  abundant,  in  the  migrations,  along  the  Red 


THE  BLUE-WINGED    YELLOW    WARBLER.          417 

River  of  the  north.  Some  4.50  long,  it  is  olivaceous  above, 
becoming  a  delicate  ash  on  the  head  and  neck,  the  lores  being 
shaded  with  dusky,  and  the  ring  around  the  eye,  and  the 
line  over  it,  being  whitish;  the  under  parts  are  white,  some- 
times slightly  tinged  with  yellow.  In  the  female  and  young, 
the  ash  of  the  head  and  neck  is  more  or  less  olivaceous.  It 
breeds  far  to  the  north,  its  nest  having  been  found  at  Michi- 
picoton  on  Lake  Superior.  In  all  stages  of  plumage  it  may 
probably  be  distinguished  from  the  two  former  by  its  wing, 
which  is  some  2.75,  and  therefore  from  .25 -.50  longer. 

THE     BLUE-WINGED    YELLOW    WARBLER. 

On  the  18th  of  May,  in  Northeastern  Ohio,  I  took  a 
bird  of  this  genus,  the  Blue-winged  Yellow  Warbler 
(Helminthophaga  pinus).  That  seems  to  be  about  the  north- 
ernmost limit  of  this  rather  southern  species.  I  detected 
it  from  its  feeble  and  drowsy  song,  sounding  like  the  sylla- 
bles, swee-e-e-e-e-zree-e-e-e-e,  in  a  decidedly  insect  tone,  and 
the  latter  part  in  the  falling  inflection.  It  is  quite  suggestive 
of  the  song  of  the  Yellow-winged  Sparrow.  About  5 
inches  long;  yellowish-olive  or  light-green  above;  forehead 
and  entire  lower  parts  bright  yellow;  bill  and  strip  through 
the  eyes,  black;  wings  and  tail  alight  slaty-blue,  the  former 
with  two  bars  of  white,  the  latter  with  white  blotches  in  the 
outer  feathers.  All  the  colors  are  particularly  delicate  and 
beautiful.  Female  and  young  similar.  Though  but  an 
humble  musician,  this  bird  is  very  beautiful  to  the  eye.  In 
keeping  with  the  rest  of  its  genus,  its  nest  is  on  the  ground. 
"  The  eggs,  of  the  usual  shape,  and  measuring  about  .63  X 
.48,  are  white,  sparsely  sprinkled,  chiefly  at  the  great  end, 
with  blackish  dots,  and  few  others  of  lighter  dirty-brownish." 
(Coues.) 

Mr.  S.  N.  Roads,  of  West  Chester,  Pa.,  found  two  nests  of 
27 


418  SUNSET  ON   THE    WATER. 

this  species  in  1878.  One  found  the  12th  of  June  contained 
young  about  two  days  old.  The  nest  was  "  in  the  midst  of 
a  clump  of  tall  swamp-grass,  on  the  outskirts  of  a  forest 
where  there  was  a  good  deal  of  weedy  undergrowth  not 
over  two  feet  high.  The  nest  rested  slightly  on  the  ground, 
and  was  quite  bulky  for  the  size  of  the  bird;  the  cavity 
was  nearly  three  inches  deep  by  two  inches  in  width.  The 
structure  was  composed  externally  of  beech  and  oak  leaves 
of  the  preceding  year,  which  seemed  to  have  been  care- 
lessly strewn  and  stuck  in  as  if  to  form  a  barricade  around 
the  brim.  The  lining  consisted  of  fine  strips  of  grape-vine 
and  inner  bark  of  the  oak,  together  with  some  straws." 
Several  other  nests  were  found  in  the  same  locality. 

Wintering  in  Mexico  and  Central  America,  this  species 
has  never  been  reported  from  New  England,  except  by  Mr. 
Samuels. 

The  peculiarities  of  this  strongly  marked  genus,  Helmin- 
thophaga,  are  its  very  sharply-pointed  bill,  almost  like  the 
point  of  a  needle,  and  without  notch  or  bristles;  the  exposed 
nostril,  and  the  rather  long-pointed  wing. 

Having  spent  a  very  profitable  afternoon,  my  company 
and  I  leave  Strawberry  Island  for  Little  Current,  about  sun- 
set, our  eyes  full  of  the  reminiscences  of  beautiful  flowers 
and  our  ears  full  of  the  songs  of  birds.  The  evening  is 
perfectly  calm,  the  scene  one  of  the  finest  I  have  ever  wit- 
nessed. In  front  of  us  to  the  west  the  departing  sun  is 
closing  behind  him  his  gorgeous  and  many-colored  portal 
of  clouds.  In  the  immense  sheet  of  water  of  glassy 
smoothness,  every  tint  of  purple,  crimson  and  gold,  with 
the  grand  arch  above,  and  the  tiniest  fleece  of  cloud,  are 
mirrored  to  the  minutest  perfection.  Away  to  the  right 
rise  the  mountains  of  Lacloche,  their  grand  heights  of  snowy 


RETURN  HOME.  419 

quartz  reflecting  the  many  colors  of  the  evening;  and  in 
the  foreground,  the  dark  pines  of  Lacloche  Island  and  the 
elegant  landscape  of  the  Island  of  Beauty,  are  attracting 
the  sombre  shadows  of  night.  To  the  left  are  the  green 
mountains  and  sloping  hills  of  Great  Manitoulin;  and  so 
perfect  is  the  mirror  of  the  waters  that  the  landscape,  as 
well  as  the  sky,  is  double.  We  are  speechless  with  the 
impressive  and  sacre'd  beauty  of  the  scene.  Only  the  muf- 
fled plash  of  our  oars  and  the  ripple  of  the  boat  are  heard, 
and  we  recall  that  the  meaning  of  Manitoulin  is  Island  of 
the  Great  Spirit;  and  that  many  other  names  of  places  in  the 
locality  are  associated  with  the  Indian  name  of  the  Deity. 
Does  not  the  innate  consciousness  of  a  God,  as  revealed  in 
the  beauties  and  the  forces  of  nature,  dwell  even  in  the  breast 
of  the  savage?  We  are  reminded,  too,  of  certain  passages 
in  Revelation:  "And  there  were  seven  lamps  of  fire  burn- 
ing before  the  throne,  which  are  the  seven  spirits  of  God; 
and  before  the  throne,  as  it  were  a  glassy  sea  like  unto 
crystal.  *  *  *  *  And  I  saw  as  it  were  a  glassy  sea 
mingled  with  fire;  and  them  that  come  victorious  from  the 
beast,  and  from  his  image,  and  from  the  number  of  his 
name,  standing  by  the  glassy  sea,  having  harps  of  God. 
And  they  sing  the  song  of  Moses,  the  servant  of  God,  and 
the  song  of  the  lamb,  saying,  great  and  marvelous  are  thy 
works,  O  Lord  God,  the  Almighty;  righteous  and  true  are 
thy  ways,  thou  King  of  the  ages." 

At  dark  we  reach  our  tent  on  the  lawn  of  G.  B.  Avery, 
Esq.,  to  whose  personal  kindness,  as  well  as  that  of  his  wife 
and  family,  we  are  greatly  indebted. 

Our  next  move  is  to  Lacloche,  a  fur-trading  post  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company,  nestling  at  the  foot  of  the  mount- 
ains on  the  north  shore.  After  careful  instructions  as  to  the 
route,  we  thread  our  way  through  the  labyrinth  of  islands, 


420  A    THUNDER-STORM. 

by  way  of  Flag  Channel,  some  dozen  miles,  and  are  in  full 
sight  of  the  neat  white  group  of  buildings,  when  all  sud- 
denly a  tempest  sweeps  across  the  bay.  In  the  heavens 
above  the  storm-forces  are  marshalled  in  terrible  array;  the 
troubled  waves  reflect  the  inky  blackness  of  the  sky;  the 
blinding  lightnings  quiver  along  the  sombre  crests  of  the 
low  clouds;  the  sonorous  peals  of  thunder  echo  from  the 
clouds  and  the  mountains;  the  rain  falls  in  torrents,  lash- 
ing the  angry  billows  into  a  white  foam.  Our  heavily- 
loaded  boat  rocks  dangerously  in  great  troughs  of  this 
surging  sea,  and  the  waters  dash  over  us  from  bow  to 
stern.  Pointing  our  boat  to  leeward,  we  drive  swiftly 
toward  a  small  island  some  half  mile  away.  We  reach  it  in 
safety,  but  the  rain  has  run  through  every  thread  of  our 
clothing  and  filled  our  boots. 

After  an  hour  or  more  the  rain  subsides,  but  the  wind 
continues,  and  we  are  obliged  to  set  up  our  tent  for  the 
night.  In  due  time  our  canvas  house,  thickly  overshadowed 
by  the  trees,  is  ready  for  lodging,  and  we  are  preparing  a 
comfortable  evening  meal  over  that  convenient  tenting 
appurtenance — a  kerosene  stove.  The  ground  is  thoroughly 
saturated,  but  by  the  aid  of  plenty  of  spruce  boughs  our 
bedding  is  kept  dry,  and  we  sleep  a  dreamless  sleep,  amid 
the  hoarse  tones  of  waves  and  breakers.  On  awaking  in 
the  morning,  I  detect  the  sun-light  through  the  trees,  and 
turning  towards  my  nearest  comrade,  spy  a  toad  sitting 
placidly  on  his  rosy  cheek.  As  I  send  the  reptile  sprawling 
on  the  ground,  the  eyes  of  my  friend  open  wider  than 
usual  at  the  sight  of  its  upturned  under  parts;  and  those 
facial  muscles,  which,  under  certain  emotions,  raise  the 
corners  of  the  mouth,  shorten  the  cheeks  and  fashion  a  cir- 
cle of  cheerful  wrinkles  about  the  eyes,  work  with  peculiar 
effect. 


THE   OLIVE-BACKED    THRUSH.  421 

THE    OLIVE-BACKED    THRUSH. 

In  every  direction  over  the  island  we  hear  the  songs  of 
Warblers.  Here  is  the  song  of  the  ever-present  Yellow- 
warbler  (D.  (Estiva),  the  hurried  melody  of  the  Canada 
Warbler,  the  drowsy  notes  of  the  Black-throated  Green, 
and  the  slender  ditty  of  the  Black-and-white  Creeping 
Warbler.  Amidst  them  all  I  hear  the  song  of  a  Thrush. 
To  an  inexperienced  ear  it  might  pass  for  a  poor  perform- 
ance of  the  Wood  Thrush,  but  it  is  decidedly  inferior  in 
capacity,  and  the  tones  are  not  nearly  so  loud,  liquid  and 
penetrating.  I  hurry  out  and  look  around,  but  cannot  detect 
the  singer,  which  becomes  silent  on  the  least  disturbance  in 
his  vicinity.  During  breakfast  we  hear  him  again,  and  are 
as  much  puzzled  as  before.  Searching  the  trees  and  bushes 
around  the  tent,  I  find  a  nest  in  a  small  balsam-fir,  placed 
on  a  limb  near  the  trunk  and  about  eight  feet  from  the 
ground.  It  is  the  nest  of  the  Olive-backed  Thrush  (Turdus 
swainsoni).  While  yet  in  the  tree  I  hear  its  alarm  note, 
quit,  quit,  quit ;  the  syllables  being  uttered  several  times, 
with  a  pause  of  a  few  seconds  after  each  articulation.  The 
alarm  note,  like  the  song,  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to 
that  of  the  Wood  Thrush,  except  that  in  the  case  of  the  lat- 
ter, the  sharp  syllable  is  uttered  a  greater  number  of  times 
and  in  rapid  and  spirited  succession: — quit-quit-quit-quit-qttit. 
In  size,  however,  about  7-7.50  long,  the  Olive-back  is  nearer 
Wilson's  Thrush  and  the  Hermit;  but  it  is  always  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  former  by  its  darker  upper  parts,  which 
are  of  a  deep  olive-brown,  becoming  reddish  on  the  rump 
and  tail,  and  by  its  larger  breast-markings,  and  from  the 
latter  by  its  creamy  breast  and  cheeks,  as  well  as  by  its 
more  dusky  mantle.  The  creamy  breast  shades  into  the 
white  of  the  under  parts,  and  the  black  spots  become  more 
obscure  on  the  lower  parts  of  the  breast. 


422  THE   OLIVE-BACKED    THRUSH. 

In  the  trees  and  tall  bushes  along  Lacloche  Creek,  which 
has  a  rapid  and  noisy  run  of  about  half  a  mile  from  a  lake 
in  the  mountains  to  the  bay,  I  hear  the  song  and  notes  of 
swainsoni  quite  commonly;  but,  except  in  the  migrations, 
when  it  spends  much  time  on  the  ground,  it  keeps  for  the 
most  part  pretty  well  up  in  the  trees  and  bushes,  and  is  so 
shy  that  only  occasionally  can  one  get  a  glimpse  of  it.  In 
this  locality  the  similarity  of  its  song  to  that  of  the  Wood 
Thrush  can  be  well  studied,  for  they  both  sing  very  com- 
monly in  closely  adjoining  haunts,  and  were  it  not  for  the 
greater  brilliancy  and  marvelous  expression  of  sentiment  in 
the  performance  of  the  latter,  the  Olive-back  would  rank  as 
no  mean  artist. 

For  two  successive  years  Mr.  Frank  H.  Lattin,  of  Gaines, 
Orleans  Co.,  N.  Y.,  has  found  the  nest  and  eggs  of  the 
Olive-backed  Thrush  within  a  short  distance  of  his  residence, 
thus  proving  a  remarkably  southern  extension  of  its  breed- 
ing habitat.  One  found  on  the  2d  of  June,  1880,  contain- 
ing 4  fresh  eggs,  was  about  4  feet  from  the  ground,  in  a 
small  elm  sapling  standing  near  the  woods  in  a  bushy  field. 
Another  taken  June  1st,  1881,  near  the -same  spot,  and  hav- 
ing 3  fresh  eggs,  with  one  of  the  Cow  Blackbird's,  was  in  a 
slim  maple  sapling,  and  about  10  feet  from  the  ground. 
One  of  these  nests,  now  before  me,  is  composed  of  dried 
weeds  and  grasses,  and  lined  with  rootlets.  It  is  frail  and 
loose,  resembling  that  of  the  Rose-breasted  Grosbeak  or 
Scarlet  Tanager.  Had  it  not  been  so  well  identified,  I 
should  doubt  its  genuineness;  for  the  nest  of  the  Olive-back 
is  generally  more  bulky  and  substantial,  and  very  well  lined, 
though  it  contains  no  mud.  The  eggs,  some  .90  or  .92  X  .62, 
are  green,  finely  specked  and  spotted  with  several  shades  of 
brown. 

Concerning  that  variety  of  the  above  species  called  Alice's 


THE  HERRING   GULL.  423 

Thrush  (Turdus  swainsoni  almce),  Coues  says:  —  "Similar, 
but  without  any  buffy  tint  about  the  head,  nor  yellowish  ring- 
around  the  eye  ;  averaging  a  trifle  larger,  with  longer,  slen- 
derer bill.  Much  the  same  distribution,  but  breeds  further 
north.  Nest  and  eggs  similar."  It  is  sometimes  called  the 
Gray-cheeked  Thrush. 

THE     HERRING    GULL. 

The  most  characteristic  bird  of  Georgian  Bay  is  the  Her- 
ring Gull  (Larus  argentatus).  In  Collingwood  harbor  it 
sails  among  the  masts  of  schooners  and  the  smoke-stacks 
of  steamers  almost  as  fearlessly  as  if  no  one  were  present, 
seeming  to  understand  that  that  city  has  a  special  law  for 
its  safety.  Any  bit  of  offal  is  eagerly  gobbled  up,  and  the 
large  quantities  of  refuse-matter  cast  overboard  by  the  fish- 
ermen are  readily  devoured  by  these  elegant  scavengers.  If 
a  steamboat  starts  out,  numbers  follow  in  her  wake,  to  take 
advantage  of  anything  edible  which  is  thrown  into  the  water; 
and  until  the  distant  port  is  reached,  scarcely  a  minute  are 
they  out  of  sight.  One  may  amuse  himself  by  the  hour 
throwing  bits  of  cracker  or  meat  overboard  for  them..  Quite 
a  distance  off  they  will  detect  a  mere  crumb  on  the  surface, 
and,  screaming  with  delight,  pick  it  up  on  the  wing.  Should 
the  cook  throw  overboard  a  dish  of  remnants,  a  considerable 
number  will  alight  on  the  water  and  take  their  repast  at 
their  leisure.  Should  one  discover  a  particularly  large  or 
desirable  morsel,  he  will  seize  it  and  rise  to  leave,  pursued 
by  several  of  his  eager  squalling  comrades.  All  along  upon 
the  rocks  and  shoals  they  stand  like  snowy  sentinels;  here 
and  there  they  float  lightly  on  the  water;  or  they  fly 
low  over  the  surface  in  search  of  prey,  or  soar  majesti- 
cally against  the  clear  ether  or  the  sombre  cloud;  the  entire 
snow-white  figure  of  their  under  parts  reminding  one  fore- 


424  THE  HERRING   GULL. 

ibly  of  the  purity  of  the  elements  around.  The  length  of 
this  species  being  2  feet  or  upwards,  and  its  spread  of  wings 
some  4%  feet,  it  compares  well  in  size  with  the  larger  birds 
of  prey,  and  its  strong  steady  stroke  of  the  wings,  as  well 
as  its  spiral  soaring,  is  very  suggestive  of  the  grand  flight 
of  the  larger  Buzzards.  Pure  white  in  maturity,  with  yel- 
low bill  and  red  gonys,  a  light  bluish-gray  curtain  over  the 
back  and  wings,  ends  of  the  primaries  jet-black  tipped  or 
spotted  with  white,  feet  a  delicate  flesh  color,  this  bird  is 
an  object  of  great  beauty  in  whatever  attitude  one  meets  it. 
On  clear  sunny  days  of  April  I  have  seen  it  flying  leisurely 
northward,  overland,  so  high  up  that  it  appeared  at  first 
sight  like  a  bit  of  stray  down  floating  in  the  atmosphere, 
and  only  as  the  eye  adjusted  itself  to  the  distance  could  its 
outline  be  defined. 

The  Herring  Gull  breeds  in  community  in  a  number  of 
places  about  Georgian  Bay,  sometimes  a  dozen  or  fifty 
appropriating  small  rocky  islands  or  shoals,  sometimes  very 
large  communities  taking  possession  of  larger  islands, 
or  even  groups  of  them.  One  of  the  most  extensive  breed- 
ing places  is  the  island  called  the  Half-moon,  lying  between 
Cape  Hurd  and  the  east  end  of  Great  Manitoulin.  Here 
the  fishermen  sometimes  obtain  hundreds  of  dozens  of  the 
eggs  at  a  time.  The  nest,  generally  placed  in  the  most 
exposed  situation  on  the  bare  rocks,  sometimes  under  shel- 
ter of  the  bushes,  is  a  promiscuous  pile  of  trash  and  dirt — 
consisting  largely  of  moss  and  lichens  gathered  from  the 
rocks,  of  small  sticks  and  dried  grasses,  of  almost  anything 
to  be  picked  up  in  the  vicinity — pretty  well  heaped  up,  and 
with  a  considerable  depression  in  the  center.  The  eggs, 
the  full  complement  of  which  is  three,  are  about  2. 75-2. 83  x 
1.80-2.00.  The  color  is  greenish  or  brownish  drab,  with 
dark  brown  and  light  grayish-brown  spots,  blotches  and 


THE  HERRING  GULL.  425 

scratches,  extending  more  or  less  over  the  entire  surface, 
but  frequently  thicker  at  the  large  end.  The  thick  and  ele- 
gant down  of  the  newly-hatched  young  is  nearly  the  color 
of  the  egg.  As  these  birds  occupy  the  same  site  for  breed- 
ing, from  year  to  year,  it  becomes  generally  known  in  the 
vicinity,  or  if  the  spot  be  remote  it  is  visited  by  fishermen 
and  adventurers  from  a  distance;  and  the  nests  are  robbed 
most  unmercifully,  often  until  late  in  summer,  the  Gulls 
continuing  to  lay  in  a  very  prolific  manner.  The  disastrous 
consequences  of  this  cruel  practice,  thus  kept  up  from  year 
to  year,  must  be  very  great,  rapidly  reducing  the  number 
of  these  birds,  so  useful  as  scavengers  and  so  highly  orna- 
mental to  the  landscape.  It  is  probably  in  consequence  of 
this  continued  disturbance  that  whole  colonies  about  the 
sea-shore  have  resorted  to  the  trees  for  nidification. 

Visiting  Seal  Island,  Yarmouth  County,  Nova  Scotia, 
last  June  (1883),  I  was  most  intensely  interested  in  study- 
ing the  nesting  of  these  Gulls  on  trees.  A  great  part  of  the 
island,  as  also  of  other  islands  in  the  vicinity,  is  covered 
with  a  peculiar  growth  of  black  spruce  (Abies  nigra) ;  rather 
low,  as  if  stunted  by  the  cold  foggy  atmosphere,  the  branches 
are  very  thick  and  numerous  for  the  height  of  the  tree,  as  if 
made  dense  by  the  shortening  of  the  trunk;  and  the  broad 
top  is  as  flat  as  a  Chinese  umbrella.  Climbing  to  the  tops  of 
these  trees,  one  seems  to  have  reached  an  immense  level  plane 
of  dark  green,  across  which  a  squirrel  might  run  with  all 
ease.  Indeed,  it  almost  appears  to  the  eye  as  if  a  man  might 
traverse  it — at  least  with  snow-shoes.  My  first  survey  of 
this  scene  was  just  after  a  bright  June  sunset.  All  over 
this  expanse  of  dark  verdure,  hundreds  of  Gulls  were 
alighted,  singly,  in  pairs,  and  in  groups,  their  chaste  white 
figures  most  elegantly  tinted  with  the  rosy  hues  of  the  lin- 
gering sunlight,  while  many  others  were  describing  their 


426  THE  HERRING   GULL. 

grand  and  noisy  circles  overhead.  In  the  open  spaces,  where 
fire  had  destroyed  the  trees,  a  good  many  nests  were  on  the 
ground,  built  as  described  above;  but  many  more  were 
on  the  almost  level  tops  of  the  trees,  and  were  constructed 
precisely  like  those  on  the  ground.  In  foggy  weather  this 
immense  colony  of  birds,  much  magnified  by  the  mists  as 
they  describe  their  maize  of  circles  in  the  sky,  are  a 
weirdly  grand  sight,  which  cannot  be  surpassed  even  by 
that  of  the  hundreds  that  sail  through  the  mists  arising  from 
Niagara  Falls  in  winter.  On  searching  the  above  locality 
for  nests,  one  is  well  convinced  of  the  increased  security 
resulting  from  this  change  in  the  manner  of  nesting;  and 
one  is  not  a  little  surprised  at  the  sagacity  of  the  bird, 
which  has  availed  itself  of  so  evident  an  advantage. 

Their  breeding  habitat  on  the  Atlantic  is  from  Northern 
Maine  and  Nova  Scotia  northward. 

At  their  breeding  places  these  Gulls  are  quite  noisy. 
They  have  a  loud,  clear  note,  sounding  like  chee-ah,  every 
now  and  then  repeated,  and  a  shorter  nasal  hunk,  kunk. 
These  notes  are  uttered  in  a  very  spirited  manner,  as  they 
describe  their  circles  high  overhead  when  their  nests  are 
being  disturbed.  They  are  also  accompanied  by  a  harsh 
rattling  sound — kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk-kuk. 

"  How  many  kinds  of  Gulls  breed  on  these  shoals?"  I  in- 
quired of  an  old  gentleman,  as  the  tug  was  nearing  one  of 
the  well-known  breeding  places.  "  Two,"  was  the  answer, 
"  White  uns  an'  gray  uns."  So  might  any  one  think  who  is 
not  acquainted  writh  the  history  of  these  birds;  but  the  fact 
is  that  the  white  ones  and  gray  ones  are  all  of  the  same 
kind,  the  young  birds,  in  their  gray  plumage,  requiring  sev- 
eral years  to  reach  the  mature  coloration. 

The  old  gentleman  in  question  must  have  mistaken,  how- 
ever, the  appearance  of  the  birds  later  in  the  season  for 


THE  RING-BILLED   GULL.  427 

that  of  the  breeding  time;  for  the  immature  specimens, 
though  seen  in  leisurely  flocks  all  summer,  farther  south  on 
the  Great  Lakes,  never  appear  on  the  breeding  grounds  in 
spring.  The  colonies  resorting  thither  are  all  in  the  full 
purity  of  their  final  summer  plumage,  and  thus  their  beauty, 
as  a  part  of  the  landscape,  is  greatly  enhanced.  Like  the 
Gull  family  in  general,  this  bird  has  two  moults,  one  in  the 
spring  and  one  in  the  fall,  and  during  winter  the  mature 
bird  has  the  head  and  neck  streaked  with  gray. 

From  its  name,  one  might  suppose  that  this  bird  subsists, 
mainly  at  least,  on  herring,  but  it  captures  with  equal  read- 
iness any  fish  of  proper  size,  dashing  at  the  surface,  or  drop- 
ping into  the  water,  a  few  moments,  to  secure  it,  but  rarely, 
if  ever,  plunging  after  it.  It  also  feeds  on  various 
kinds  of  miollusks,  holding  the  shell  in  its  claw,  after 
the  manner  of  a  Hawk,  and  breaking  it  with  its  bill  in  order 
to  secure  the  contents.  Dr.  Coues  "  once  found  remains  'of 
a  Marsh  Hare  in  the  stomach  of  one  of  these  Gulls."  I 
have  seen  it  pick  up  the  newly-skinned  body  of  a  Common 
Tern,  thrown  on  the  water,  and  gulp  it  down  at  a  mouthful, 
scarcely  retarding  its  flight.  In  fact,  it  will  feed  on  almost 
anything,  and  in  certain  localities  is  an  excellent  scavenger. 

THE    RING-BILLED    GULL. 

Observing  the  Herring  Gulls,  on  Georgian  Bay,  one  will 
notice  certain  individuals  very  much  smaller  than  the  rest, 
while  their  form  and  color,  as  well  as  their  general  habit,  are 
precisely  the  same.  On  shooting  one  of  these,  however,  it 
will  be  discovered  that  the  bill  is  greenish-yellow  at  the 
base,  followed  by  a  broad  band  of  black  encircling  it  at  the 
gonys,  while  its  tip  is  bright  chrome;  the  angle  of  the 
mouth  and  part  of  the  cutting-edges  of  the  bill  being  red, 
and  the  legs  and  feet  of  a  dusky  green.  On  measuring 


428  THE  RING-BILLED   GULL. 

it,  it  is  found  to  be  only  18-20  inches  long  and  some  48 
inches  in  extent;  thus  being  much  smaller  than  the  Herring 
Gull,  while  the  colors  of  its  bill  and  feet  fully  differentiate 
it.  From  the  dark  ring  around  its  bill,  it  is  called  the 
Ring-billed  Gull  (Larus  delawarensis).  It  has  nearly  the 
same  diet  and  habitat  as  its  near  relative,  which  it  so  closely 
resembles. 

About  44  miles  northeast  of  Collingwood,  and  somewhat 
north  of  the  route  from  that  city  to  Parry  Sound,  are  the 
Western  Islands.  They  are  in  two  thick  groups,  the  largest 
islands  containing  several  acres  each,  the  smallest  being 
mere  rocky  shoals.  One  of  the  largest  has  a  few  trees, 
most  of  the  rest  contain  a  few  shrubs,  and  more  or  less 
small  vegetable  growth  and  grasses  on  some  of  the  ledges 
of  rock.  They  are  many  miles  from  any  human  habitation, 
resting  quietly  in  the  grand  solitude  of  this  waste  of 
waters.  On  one  of  the  larger  islands  of  these  groups,  the 
Ring-bills  breed  in  immense  numbers.  As  one  nears  the 
shores  they  literally  swarm  with  many  hundreds,  if  not 
thousands,  of  these  elegant  birds.  The  rocks  and  the 
waters  along  the  shore  are  literally  white  with  them.  Ap- 
proaching still  nearer,  they  take  alarm,  and  rise  like  an 
immense  living  cloud.  The  very  air,  rustling  with  the  noise 
of  their  snowy  wings,  seems  alive  with  them^  and  still  they 
rise  from  the  more  distant  parts  of  the  island,  until  their 
numbers  are  overwhelming.  Rising  high  overhead,  the 
great  mass  spread  out  somewhat,  and  describing  their 
graceful  circles,  intersecting  each  other  at  points  innumer- 
able, form  most  complicated  and  animated  figures  of  huge 
dimensions  against  the  sunlit  ether  or  the  thick  veil  of 
dark  clouds.  Now  they  become  very  noisy,  their  voices 
being  quite  similar  to  that  of  the  Herring  Gull.  Presently 
the  great  excited  mass  separates  into  sections;  several 


THE  RING-BILLED   GULL.  429 

large  groups  drop  into  the  water  near  by,  and  whiten  its 
surface  for  some  distance;  others  continue  their  flight  far- 
ther away,  while  not  a  few  still  linger  near  to  watch  the  fate 
of  their  treasures,  and  keep  up  an  uneasy  chattering  di- 
rectly overhead.  The  nests  on  the  island  are  found  to  be 
almost  numberless,  some  of  them  being  so  close  together, 
that  the  sitting  birds  must  almost  touch  each  other.  In 
the  style  of  the  nest,  the  shape,  color  and  number  of  the 
eggs,  and  the  color  of  the  newly-hatched  young,  there  is 
the  greatest  resemblance  to  the  nidification  of  the  Herring 
Gull;  only,  in  accordance  with  the  diminished  size  of  the 
birds,  both  nests  and  eggs  are  much  smaller;  the  latter 
being  2.07-2.50  x  1.63-1.70.  On  the  whole,  the  marking  of 
these  eggs  tends  more  to  blotches  than  is  the  case  with  the 
eggs  of  the  near  but  larger  relative.  Also  the  bills  and  feet 
of  the  young  are  noticeably  darker.  Passing  by  many 
nests  containing  newly-hatched  young,  and  others  with 
eggs,  through  the  shells  of  which  the  peeping  chicks  have 
already  thrust  their  bills,  one  may  gather  a  sufficient  sup- 
ply of  eggs  for  study,  scarcely  affecting  the  number  on  the 
whole. 

The  full-grown  young,  on  through  its  years  of  gradual 
change  into  the  maturity  of  coloration,  bears  a  close  resem- 
blance to  the  Herring  Gull  of  corresponding  age;  in  fact, 
in  shades  and  markings  is  about  identical.  The  resem- 
blance of  these  two  species  also  holds  good  in  respect  to 
the  mature  birds  in  their  annual  changes  of  plumage. 

The  Gulls  proper  are  a  well-marked  subdivision  of  the 
Gull  family  in  general,  that  family  including  Jaegers,  or 
Skua  Gulls,  Gulls  proper,  Terns  and  Skimmers.  Some  of 
the  differentiating  characters  of  the  Gulls  proper  are: 
the  rather  long,  deep  and  much  compressed  bill,  well 
hooked  toward  the  point,  with  peculiar  enlargement  at  the 


430  THE   RING-BILLED   GULL. 

gonys,  and  sharp  cutting  edges;  tail  generally  even;  body 
thick,  and  wings  broad,  as  compared  with  the  Terns,  for 
instance,  while  they  are  usually  of  larger  size;  feet  and  legs 
stout  for  birds  of  their  class;  and  the  bouyancy  with  which 
they  float  on  the  water,  on  account  of  their  small  bodies  as 
compared  with  the  bulk  of  their  plumage.  In  form,  gener- 
ally, the  whole  sub-family  are  so  similarly  moulded,  that 
any  eye  of  moderate  discrimination  can  recognize  them. 
In  size  and  color  they  are  subject  to  great  variation. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

TENTING   ON   THE    NIAGARA. 

THE  Niagara  ranks  with  the  most  interesting  rivers  of  the 
world.  Its  great  gorge,  cut  from  Queenstown  Heights 
to  Niagara  City  by  the  constant  recession  of  the  falls,  is 
not  only  grand  in  itself,  but  affords  the  most  important 
data  for  reckoning  geological  time,  and  also  a  most  ad- 
mirable illustration  of  the  rock  strata  of  the  upper  Silurian 
age;  while  the  falls  are  not  second  to  any  of  nature's  won- 
ders. Indeed,  from  Lake  Erie  to  Lake  Ontario,  the  river 
is  throughout  an  object  of  varied  beauty.  As  this  work  is 
written  especially  from  Western  New  York  as  a  point  of 
view,  I  have  thought  it  necessary  to  spend  time  on  this 
grand  water-course;  and  that  time  has  been  passed  mostly 
in  tenting.  For  this  kind  of  recreation  no  locality  could 
be  finer  than  Buckhorn  Island,  which  is  separate  from 
Grand  Island  by  Burnt-ship  Creek.  Here  I  once  pitched 
my  tent,  in  the  middle  of  August,  under  the  shade  of  a 
large  maple  in  the  edge  of  an  open  grove  with  a  green 
sward  almost  equal  to  a  lawn,  which,  undermined  along 
the  margin  of  the  river,  dropped  over  the  low  bank  to  the 
water's  edge  like  a  fine  terrace.  Thus  located  on  the  very 
brink  of  the  river,  the  east  end  of  the  tent  opened  toward 
Tonawanda,  the  west  toward  Niagara  City  and  the  Falls, 
which  were  some  four  miles  distant  and  in  full  view. 
Directly  north  was  the  village  La  Salle,  and  the  fine  country 


432  TENTING  ON   THE  NIAGARA, 

along  the  river.  The  waters  of  this  river  being  the  outlet 
of  one  great  lake  into  another,  and  therefore  wholly  unlike 
those  rivers  which  drain  alluvial  soils,  are  remarkably  pure. 
Hence,  the  sheet  of  water  east  of  Buckhorn,  about  a  mile 
in  width,  and  breaking  into  the  rapids  to  the  south  and 
west,  is  an  ever  changing  scene  of  great  beauty.  In  certain 
hours  of  the  day,  when  the  sky  is  bright,  the  color  is  a  deli- 
cate green,  compared  with  which  the  clearest  sky  looks 
dark  and  inky.  In  no  other  waters,  of  river,  lake  or  ocean, 
have  I  ever  seen  so  bright  and  beautiful  a  tint  of  green. 
When  tossed  by  the  wind  this  sheet  of  green  is  ornamented 
with  large  snow-white  crests  of  foam.  Again  it  assumes  a 
deep  purple  or  a  cold  gray,  or  almost  a  deep  black,  when 
frowned  upon  by  a  darkly  clouded  sky.  The  roar  of  the 
falls  is  nearly  as  distinct  as  it  is  in  the  immediate  vicinity, 
and  the  mist,  which  rises  constantly,  is  ever  changing,  both 
in  quantity  and  appearance.  Sometimes  it  is  barely  per- 
ceptible, or  even  disappears  entirely;  again  it  is  a  thick 
column,  and  forms  a  dense  cloud.  Generally  it  is  about  the 
color  of  steam;  sometimes  it  is  like  a  column  of  black 
smoke  against  the  gaudy  tints  of  sunset.  I  occasionally 
see  it,  toward  the  close  of  day,  of  a  delicate  rose-tint  and 
once  after  a  heavy  storm,  as  the  sun,  nearing  the  horizon, 
threw  a  flood  of  light  from  behind  the  black  cloud  formed 
above  the  cataract,  the  mist,  as  it  rose,  was  a  bright  flame- 
color;  and,  rolling  among  the  trees  on  the  Canadian  side, 
seemed  like  a  raging  fire.  The  city  was  wrapped  in  a 
golden  cloud,  and  the  whole  landscape  to  the.  east  was 
bathed  in  a  rosy  mist. 

Next  to  the  sweet  and  simple  pleasures  of  childhood  are 
those  of  tenting  out.  O,  the  delicious  quiet  and  freedom, 
as  I  recline  on  the  grass  with  my  good  and  companionable 
friend,  to  partake  of  the  simple  but  palatable  meal  which 


THE  SPOTTED   SANDPIPER.  433 

our  own  hands  have  prepared;  or  bend  over  the  side  of 
the  boat  and  wash  our  few  dishes  of  bright  tin;  or  sit  in 
the  tent  door  at  the  close  of  day  reading  or  watching  the 
birds  on  this  grand  water-course.  It  reminds  one,  too,  of 
the  ancient,  patriarchal  days  when  Abraham,  Isaac  and 
Jacob  dwelt  in  tents;  and  thus  carries  us  back  from  our  highly 
artificial  and  complicated  age  of  living,  and  gives  us  a 
glimpse  of  the  quiet  peace  and  simplicity  of  the  olden 
times — of  the  sweet  infancy  of  human  history.  What  an 
object  of  beauty  is  a  new  wall-tent — almost  as  white  as 
snow — upon  the  clear  roof  of  which,  through  the  ever  mov- 
ing trees,  play,  by  day,  the  shadows  of  the  sunlight,  and  by 
night,  the  shadows  of  the  moonlight.  My  carpet,  too,  of 
rich  green-sward  intermixed  with  a  variety  of  small  plants, 
is  a  real  study  in  botany.  Here  I  rest  sweetly  on  the  very 
bosom  and  near  the  heart  of  nature. 

THE    SPOTTED    SANDPIPER. 

The  most  constant  bird-note  along  the  river  and  the  shore 
is  the  rapidly  uttered/^/,  weet,  iveet,  weet,  weet,  or  wreet,  wreety 
wreet,  wreet,  of  the  Spotted  Sandpiper  (Tringoides  macularius), 
a  most  common  and  characteristic  bird  throughout  North 
America;  unlike  most  of  its  tribe,  which  go  far  north 
for  nidificatiori,  it  breeds  from  Texas  to  Labrador,  and  as 
abundantly  along  the  waters  of  the  interior,  as  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  sea.  Its  well  pronounced  notes  express  the  very 
soul  of  sweet  content  and  cheerfulness.  Who  could  be  the 
victim  of  care  or  melancholy,  nesting  in  the  quiet  haunts 
enlivened  by  such  sprightly  tones  !  Scarcely  less  melodious 
are  they  than  the  tender  utterances  of  the  piping  Plover. 
Indeed,  but  few  of  the  sylvan  songsters  can  render  their 
strains  more  suggestively  pleasing.  On  the  ground  or  in 
the  air,  it  is  exceedingly  graceful.  As  the  bird  alights  and 
28 


434  THE   SPOTTED   SANDPIPER. 

begins  to  run,  the  passage  from  one  kind  of  locomotion  to 
the  other  is  so  easy,  one  can  scarcely  see  where  flight  ends 
and  running  begins. 

It  has,  moreover,  two  distinctive  habits  of  motion,  which 
may  keep  time  with  its  notes,  and  really  become  a  part  of 
the  landscape  of  its  haunts  about  lakes,  ponds  and  streams. 
The  first,  pertaining  to  its  flight,  is  the  tremulous  vibration 
of  its  long-pointed  wings,  curving  downward  after  certain 
regular  strokes.  The  second  is  the  perpendicular  sweep-  of 
the  tail  and  hinder  part  of  the  body,  so  rapid  and  constant 
while  the  bird  is  alighted  as  to  give  it  the  common  name, 
Tip-up.  Both  these  motions  are  exceedingly  graceful,  and 
add  greatly  to  the  character  and  charm  of  this  gentle,  con- 
fiding bird,  the  most  common  of  all  our  Waders.  The  peculiar 
note,  and  the  motion  while  on  the  ground,  are  both  assumed 
by  the  young  about  as  soon  as  they  leave  the  shell. 

Arriving  in  this  district,  and  in  the  Middle  States  gener- 
ally, about  the  middle  or  twentieth  of  April,  it  is  exceed- 
ingly sprightly  and  musical  on  all  our  water-courses,  retir-' 
ing  to  the  fields,  late  in  May  or  early  in  June,  for  nidification. 
The  nest  is  on  the  ground,  in  any  cultivated  field  or  past- 
ure, or  about  barren  shores,  generally  near,  but  sometimes 
rather  remote  from  water,  and  ordinarily  consists  of  a 
loose  arrangement  of  dried  grasses  or  straw,  but  it  seems  to 
increase  in  bulk  and  elaborateness  of  structure  as  the  bird 
extends  northward.  In  Labrador,  Audubon  found  these 
nests  "  made  of  dry  moss,  raised  to  the  height  of  from  six 
to  nine  inches,  and  well  finished  within  with  slender  grasses 
and  feathers  of  the  Eider  Duck."  In  this  locality  they 
are  found,  also,  well  sheltered  beneath  shelving  rocks.  As 
its  breeding  habitat  is  so  extensive,  its  time  of  nidification 
varies  with  the  locality.  In  Texas,  Audubon  saw  the  young 
"  well  grown  "  by  the  fifth  of  May,  while  in  Newfoundland 


THE   SPOTTED   SANDPIPER.  435 

they  were  "just  fully  fledged"  by  the  eleventh  of  August. 
The  parent  leaves  the  nest  with  much  reluctance,  and  man- 
ifests the  greatest  distress  as  she  hobbles  and  flutters  along, 
or  even  prostrates  herself  on  the  ground,  at  a  short  distance, 
uttering  the  most  plaintive  notes.  The  4  eggs,  1.35X.92, 
are  a  grayish  cream,  specked,  spotted  and  heavily  blotched 
with  dark  brown  and  also  a  lighter  tint.  Like  the  eggs  of 
the  Waders  in  general,  they  are  quite  pointed,  and  large  for 
the  size  of  the  bird.  When  in  the  down,  the  young  are 
gray,  having  a  black  stripe  over  the  back,  and  one  behind 
each  eye. 

This  bird  spends  the  winter  in  the  Southern  States,  but 
extends  also  through  Mexico  and  Central  America  to  South 
America.  It  is  7.00-8.00  long  ;  bill  about  1.00,  and  grooved 
nearly  to  the  tip;  head  and  neck  slender;  color  above,  a 
bronze-olive,  much  like  that  of  a  Cuckoo,  with  fine  central 
lines  or  wavy  cross-bars  of  black;  eye-lid,  line  back  from  the 
eye  and  under  parts,  pure  white  in  the  mature  birds,  and 
finely  spotted  with  black,  the  young  lacking  the  black  spots. 

The  Solitary  Sandpiper  (Tetanus solttarius),  some  9.00  long 
and  17.00  in  extent,  is  "dark  lustrous  olive-brown,  streaked 
on  the  head  and  neck,  elsewhere  finely  speckled  with  whitish; 
below,  white,  jugulum  and  sides  of  neck  with  brownish 
suffusion,  and  dusky  streaks;  rump  and  upper  tail-coverts 
like  the  back;  tail,  axillars  and  lining  of  wings,  beautifully 
barred  with  black  and  white;  quills  entirely  blackish;  bill 
and  feet  blackish  ;  young,  duller  above,  less  speckled,  jugu- 
lum merely  suffused  with  grayish-brown."  This  "shy,  quiet 
inhabitant  of  wet  woods,  moist  meadows,  and  secluded 
pools,  rather  than  of  the  marshes,"  is  not  gregarious,  and 
is  often  found  singly.  Its  nidification  is  but  imperfectly 
known.  An  egg  from  Vermont,  well  identified,  was  de- 
scribed by  the  late  Dr.  Brewer.  Mr.  Jas.  W.  Banks,  of  St. 


436  THE  BANK  SWALLOW. 

John,  N.  B.,  found  a  nest  containing  3  eggs  on  the  shore  of 
a  lake  in  the  suburbs  of  that  city,  July  3d,  1880.  It  was 
"  about  200  yards  from  the  edge  of  the  lake,  on  a  dry  spot 
in  the  midst  of  a  rather  swampy  patch  of  meadow."  Mr. 
Maynard  gives  the  following  description  of  a  set  of  eggs  well 
identified,from  Utah.  Dimensions  from  .95  X  1.35-1.00  X  1.40; 
varying  from  creamy  to  pale  buff  in  color,  spotted  and 
blotched  with  umber-brown  of  varying  shades,  with  the 
usual  pale  shell  markings. 

THE    BANK    SWALLOW. 

Just  above  the  tent  where  the  bank  curves  gracefully  and 
is  quite  a  little  above  its  ordinary  height,  a  community  of 
Bank  Swallows  have  selected  their  summer  residence.  A 
grand  sheet  of  water  is  this  for  them  to  skim,  in  their  grace- 
ful aerial  evolutions.  In  every  way  a  most  delightful 
summer  resort  do  they  find  this.  Five  inches  long,  dull 
or  grayish-brown  above,  with  pectoral  band  of  the  same, 
and  white  underneath,  like  the  Swallows  generally,  the 
Bank  Swallow  (Cotyle  riparia)  reaches  us  late  in  April  or 
early  in  May.  In  communities  about  river-banks,  or  quite 
as  readily  in  sand  pits  remote  from  the  water,  excavating 
eighteen  inches,  or  two  feet,  into  soft,  sandy  earth,  they  place 
in  an  enlargement,  at  the  end  of  the  burrow,  a  nest  consist- 
ing of  dried  grasses,  loosely  arranged,  and  containing  four 
or  five  white  eggs,  some  .68X.50.  A  first  set  is  laid  late  in 
May  or  early  in  June,  and  a  second  may  follow  later. 

Breeding  in  North  America  generally,  and  spending  the 
winter  from  our  southern  coast  southward  into  the  West 
India  Islands,  Cotyle  riparia  is  found  also  in  Europe. 

The  Bank  Swallow  is  easily  mistaken  for  the  Rough- 
winged  Swallow  (Stelgidopteryx  serripennis);  very  similar  in 
its  general  appearance  and  habit;  but  the  latter  can  be  dis- 


THE  KINGFISHER.  437 

tinguished,  when  flying  towards  one,  by  the  absence  of  the 
pectoral  band  of  the  former;  and  when  in  the  hand,  it  is 
found  to  be  a  little  larger,  not  so  clear  white  underneath, 
and  lacking  "the  curious  little  tuft  of  feathers  at  the  bottom 
of  the  tarsus,"  so  characteristic  of  the  former;  while  the 
recurved  outer  web  of  the  primaries,  in  the  male,  equally 
differentiates  it,  as  well  as  secures  its  common  name.  It, 
too,  generally  breeds  in  banks,  though  "it  has  been  found 
breeding  about  the  piers  and  abutments  of  bridges,  etc." 
(Coues.)  It  is  "distributed,  during  the  breeding  season, 
throughout  the  United  States  exclusive  of  New  England." 
(Maynard.) 

The  Bank  Swallow,  unlike  the  Swallows  generally,  seems 
unaffected,  in  its  habits  of  nidification,  by  the  introduction 
of  civilization;  but  both  it  and  the  Rough-wing  seem  less 
noisy  and  less  musical  than  their  congeners. 

THE    KINGFISHER. 

Never  did  I  see  anywhere  so  many  Kingfishers  as  on  the 
Niagara  River.  At  my  tenting  ground,  on  Buckhorn 
Island,  they  were  almost  constantly  in  view,  and  never  before 
did  they  seem  to  me  to  be  so  fine  an  ornament  to  the  land- 
scape. Their  flight,  as  they  passed  up  and  down  those 
lovely  waters,  moving  in  long  curves,  caused  by  a  more 
rapid  beating  of  the  wings  every  few  yards,  and  thus  throw- 
ing themselves  up  at  intervals,  was  really  graceful.  Their 
forms,  too,  seemed  especially  graceful;  their  long  wings,  so 
finely  marked,  as  they  opened  in  flight,  with  a  long  bill  and 
crest  overtopping  the  pure  white  neck,  all  added  to  the 
pleasing  figure.  The  Kingfisher  can  hover  as  elegantly  as 
any  Falcon,  while  he  eyes  his  prey  in  the  clear  depths;  and 
his  adroitness  in  plunging  head  first  into  the  water,  utterly 
burying  himself  in  search  of  his  sprightly  game,  and  again 


433  THE  KINGFISHER. 

emerging  and  putting  off  with  an  air  of  real  pleasure,  is  very 
animating  to  the  beholder,  to  say  the  least.  One  almost 
feels  like  clapping  his  hands  at  the  success  of  the  feat.  I 
watch  him  with  interest  even  as  he  alights  upon  a  stake  or  a 
limb  over  the  water,  intent  upon  his  prey  beneath,  occasion- 
ally jerking  his  tail,  or  repeating  his  peculiar  rattle,  often 
compared  to  the  whistle  of  a  night-watch,  but  sounding 
really  musical  in  this  pleasing  solitude. 

Reaching  this  locality  as  early  as  the  18th  of  March — for 
they  barely  go  far  enough  south  in  winter  to  find  the  streams 
clear  of  ice — they  are  already  prospecting  for  a  nest  by  the 
first  week  in  April.  The  nest  is  near  the  inner  extremity  of 
a  hole  in  the  bank  of  a  stream  or  pond,  some  4  or  5  feet 
from  the  entrance;  often  near  the  surface,  but  if  the  bank 
be  high,  it  may  be  a  number  of  feet  below.  The  nest  con- 
sists of  a  few  sticks  or  a  little  straw,  with  some  feathers; 
and  contains  some  half-dozen  pure  white  eggs,  about  1.32X 
1.05.  Incubation,  which  is  performed  by  both  parents,  lasts 
about  two  weeks,  and  the  young  receive  the  best  of  atten- 
tion. When  they  are  disturbed,  it  is  said  "  the  mother 
sometimes  drops  on  the  water  as  if  severely  wounded,  and 
flutters  and  flounders  as  if  unable  to  rise  from  the  stream, 
in  order  to  induce  the  intruder  to  wade  or  swim  after  her, 
whilst  her  mate,  perched  on  the  nearest  bough,  or  even  on 
the  edge  of  the  bank,  jerks  his  tail,  erects  his  crest,  rattles 
his  notes  with  angry  vehemence,  and  then  springing  off, 
passes  and  repasses  before  the  enemy  with  a  continued  cry 
of  despair." 

About  a  foot  long,  the  Kingfisher  (Ceryle  alcyoii),  is  slaty- 
blue  above,  including  the  long  crest  and  band  across  the 
breast,  the  shafts  of  the  feathers  black,  spot  in  front  of  the 
eye,  collar  around  the  neck,  and  under  parts  generally,  pure 
satiny  white,  quills  and  tail-feathers  mostly  black,  spotted 


7 HE  MARSH  HA  WK.  439 

with  white,  wing-feathers  and  wing-coverts  often  tipped 
and  specked  with  white,  the  long  bill  black,  toes  much 
joined  together;  the  female,  with  a  chestnut  band  across 
the  lower  breast,  just  below  the  one  of  slaty  blue,  has  also 
chestnut  along  the  sides. 

The  fish-diet  of  this  bird  makes  it  very  disagreeable  to 
the  taxidermist.  It  is  a  most  characteristic  bird  of  North 
America,  reaching  to  Central  America  and  the  West  India 
Islands.  About  the  valleys  of  the  Rio  Grande,  Colorado 
and  southward,  there  is  a  beautiful  green  species  but  8  inches 
long,  called  Cabanis'  Kingfisher.  These  make  up  the  King- 
fishers of  our  continent. 

THE    MARSH    HAWK. 

While  the  northern  or  front  side  of  Buckhorn  Island  is  till- 
able upland,  affording  a  profitable  fruit  farm  and  an  elegant 
grove,  the  southern  part,  along  Burnt-ship  Creek,  is  an  exten- 
sive marsh,  with  an  abundance  of  tall  grass  and  sedges, 
elegantly  ornamented  with  wild  flowers,  and  an  occasional 
group  of  alders.  Here  I  take  a  stroll,  gun  in  hand.  A 
quieter  spot  it  would  be  difficult  to  find,  but  oh  !  how  trying, 
to  a  sweet  temper  even,  to  traverse  these  hummocks!  They 
are  scarcely  larger  than  a  man's  hat,  and  afford  such  a  luxu- 
riant growth  of  tall  marsh-grass,  that  one  can  scarcely 
force  the  foot  through  it,  while  all  the  interspaces  are  a  bot- 
tomless soft  mire.  I  make  my  perilous  way,  catching  hold 
of  the  grass  to  support  my  uncertain  steps,  and  unable  to 
observe  anything,  when  lo!  I  am  startled  by  putting  up  a 
fine  female  of  the  Marsh  Hawk  or  Harrier  (Circus  cyaneus 
var.  hudsonius).  She  rises  but  a  few  feet  ahead  of  me,  and 
on  reaching  the  spot  I  find  the  feathers  of  the  Common 
Rail,  the  late  quarry  of  the  startled  bird.  These  Hawks 
are  so  plenty  as  to  be  almost  constantly  in  sight  about  this 


440  THE  MARSH  HA  WK. 

marsh,  being  about  as  common  here  as  on  the  salt  marshes  of 
New  Jersey.  With  long  wings  and  tail,  they  always  fly  rather 
low,  often  near  the  ground,  and  never  very  swiftly.  Accus- 
tomed to  pass  and  repass  while  searching  thoroughly  a  given 
locality,  they  generally  sail,  with  a  few  occasional  strokes 
of  the  wings  to  gain  a  new  impulse.  Either  the  clear  bluish- 
gray  male,  or  the  mottled  and  streaked  reddish-brown  female, 
each  having  the  conspicuous  white  spot  on  the  rump,  may 
be  readily  recognized.  When  the  mature  male  passes 
over  you,  excepting  a  few  dark  markings  near  the  throat  or 
breast  and  the  black  points  of  his  wings,  he  appears  almost 
pure  white.  This  species  has  indeed  "  a  queer  owlish  physi- 
ognomy, produced  by  the  shape  of  the  head,  and  especially 
by  the  ruff  of  modified  feathers,  which  in  its  higher  develop- 
ment is  characteristic  of  the  Strigida"  or  Owls 

The  female  is  very  noticeably  larger  than  the  male,  being 
some  20-21  inches  in  length,  while  the  former  is  but  16-18 
inches,  and  somehow  appears  more  frequently,  in  migratory 
periods  at  least,  in  the  low  flight  which  this  bird  makes  in 
search  of  its  lowly  prey  of  insects,  mice,  snakes,  and  frogs. 
Of  the  latter,  Circus  is  said  to  be  especially  fond,  so  that  one 
writer  affirms  that  "these  goggle-eyed  and  perspiring  creat- 
ures suffer  more  from  the  Harriers  than  from  all  the  school 
boys  that  ever  stoned  them  of  a  Saturday  afternoon."  It 
will  readily  be  seen  that  this  bill  of  fare  necessarily  attracts 
them  to  marshes  and  bogs.  In  these  "watery  preserves" 
they  may  not  infrequently  feast  upon  a  Rail  or  a  small 
Wader.  In  every  case,  like  the  Buzzards  in  general,  they 
drop  upon  their  prey  and  devour  it  on  the  spot,  thus 
differing  greatly  from  the  Falcons,  which  dash  upon  their 
victims  in  the  swiftest  flight,  and  from  many  of  the  Rap- 
tores^  which  convey  their  prey  to  fancied  places  for  con- 
sumption. 


THE   CAROLINA   RAIL.  441 

The  nest,  placed  on  the  ground  in  some  marshy  spot,  and 
more  or  less  neatly  arranged  of  dried  grasses,  sometimes 
resting  on  a  slight  bed  of  sticks,  is  about  a  foot  in  diameter 
and  three  or  four  inches  in  depth,  and  is  sometimes  partly 
sheltered  by  shrubbery.  It  contains  some  four  or  five 
greenish-tinted  eggs,  some  1.85x1.45,  sometimes  obscurely 
marked  with  brownish  or  lavender.  This  species  generally 
breeds  in  May  or  early  in  June.  Arriving  here  in  April,  it 
leaves  for  the  south  rather  early  in  the  fall. 

Of  this  species,  variety  hudsonius,  is  found  throughout 
North  America,  variety  cyaneus  in  Europe  and  Asia,  while 
cinereus  belongs  to  South  America. 

THE   CAROLINA    RAIL. 

But  for  the  feathers  of  this  Carolina  Rail  (Porzana  Caro- 
lina], left  after  the  meal  of  the  Marsh  Hawk,  the  stranger 
to  ornithology  might  not  suspect  its  presence  in  this  marsh; 
for  they  may  abound,  in  one  of  these  sedgy,  reedy  localities, 
and  yet  be  so  closely  concealed  as  to  elude  all  ordinary 
observation.  They  are  abundant,  however,  in  the  marshes 
and  about  bodies  of  water,  throughout  the  middle  districts 
of  our  Union,  and  far  to  the  north,  from  April  till  late  in 
October,  disappearing,  it  would  seem,  on  the  approach  of 
cold  weather.  If  the  observer  will  carefully  hide  himself  in 
these  marshy  resorts,  near  the  close  of  day,  he  may 
hear  their  queep-eep-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip,  or  quaite,  quaite,  peep,  peep, 
kuk-kuk-kuk — the  first  two  or  three  syllables  in  long- 
drawn,  coaxing  tones,  and  the  remaining  syllables  shorter 
and  more  hurried — representing  the  vocal  performance  of 
this  species.  Here,  too,  especially  if  he  be  near  the 
border  of  some  sluggish  pool,  he  may  have  frequent 
glimpses  of  Porzana,  as  it  runs  with  tail  erect  upon 
the  lily-pods  in  search  or  its  food  of  small  aquatic 


442  THE   CAROLINA   RAIL. 

animal,  as  well  as  vegetable  life,  but  particularly  the  seeds 
of  weeds. 

How  gracefully  it  walks  along  that  floating  log,  moving 
its  head  forward  and  backward  in  dainty  dove-like  jerks  to 
keep  its  center  of  gravity,  and  also  jerking  its  tail  forward 
with  a  quick  spreading  motion.  Leaving  the  log  and  trav- 
ersing the  floating  debris,  it  slumps  in  and  wades  or  swims 
for  a  short  distance  without  the  least  inconvenience. 

While  traversing  a  marsh,  in  the  beautiful  days  of  Octo- 
ber, one  may  every  now  and  then  see  it  start  up  from  almost 
under  foot,  and  flying  with  apparent  feebleness  just  above 
the  tops  of  the  grass,  with  legs  dangling  carelessly  down- 
ward, drop  suddenly  out  of  sight  again,  to  be  put  up  a 
second  or  third  time  perhaps,  but  finally  depending 
upon  the  strength  and  facility  of  its  legs,  rather  than  upon 
its  more  feeble  wings,  for  safety.  Its  body,  too,  becoming 
almost  as  flat  as  one's  hand  at  pleasure,  can  wedge  its  way 
through  sedges  and  rushes,  almost  with  the  ease  of  a  mouse. 
It  is  equally  expert  as  a  diver,  clinging  with  its  feet  for 
some  time  to  the  reeds  under  water,  or,  when  compelled  to 
breathe,  hiding  dexterously  under  floating  herbage,  merely 
protruding  its  head  or  bill  above  the  surface.  Being  in 
good  requisition  for  the  table,  it  has  been  extensively  hunted, 
especially  about  the  marshes  of  Delaware  and  Chesapeake 
Bays,  where  it  is  very  numerous.  Wilson  gives  a  full 
account  of  the  manner  of  capturing  these  birds  in  his  day — 
a  general  slaughter,  decidedly  repulsive  to  good  sense  and 
humane  feelings. 

The  nest,  built  here  late  in  May,  in  its  favorite  localities, 
is  placed  on  a  matted  tussock  of  dried  sedges  or  grasses. 
It  is  quite  basket-like,  tied  just  above  the  water,  neatly  laid 
of  fine  materials,  well  edged  up,  and  having  the  tops  of  the 
grasses  elegantly  woven  together  as  a  canopy  over  the  nest. 


THE   CAROLINA   RAIL.  443 

It  contains  7-12  eggs,  some  1.20X-90,  of  a  rich,  clear  brown- 
ish drab,  with  scattered  and  distinct  specks,  and  large  spots 
of  dark  umber  and  light  gray.  The  young,  looking  like 
diminutive  black  chickens,  with  a  bit  of  red  under  the  chin, 
run  about  as  soon  as  hatched. 

Some  8-9  inches  long,  with  the  short,  round  wings,  short 
pointed  tail  of  soft  feathers,  and  long  slender  toes,  common 
to  all  the  Rails,  but  with  the  shorter,  stouter  bill,  common 
to  the  genius  Porzana,  it  is  olive-brown  above,  spotted  with 
black  and  streaked  with  white;  space  around  the  base  of 
the  bill,  and  stripe  down  the  throat  and  breast,  black;  sides 
of  the  head,  neck  and  breast,  ash,  shading  into  the  olive- 
brown  above;  flanks  crossed  with  white  and  black  or  brown- 
ish-gray; belly,  white;  under- tail  coverts  rufescent.  The 
young  have  the  markings,  especially  those  about  the  head, 
somewhat  obscure. 

These  Rails  may  move  with  prolonged  and  steady  flight, 
sometimes  in  flocks,  spending  the  winter  in  the  Southern 
States  and  beyond.  They  have  alighted  on  vessels  far  out 
at  sea. 

In  this  genus  Porzana,  distinguishable  from  the  genus 
Rallus  principally  by  the  shortness  of  the  bill,  are  the  Yel- 
low Rail  (Porzana  noveboracensis)  and  the  Black  Rail  (Porzana 
jamaicensis).  They  are  both  very  small,  about  5.00-6.00  long, 
the  latter  being  an  extremely  southern  species,  in  fact,  be- 
longing more  particularly  to  Central  and  South  America, 
and  the  former  a  rather  rare  one  of  Eastern  North  America, 
sometimes  going  as  far  north  as  Hudson's  Bay.  It  is  occa- 
sionally found  in  Western  New  York.  The  general  color  is 
blackish,  marked  or  varied  with  ochery-brown,  the  nar- 
row white  edges  of  the  feathers  appearing  like  semicircles, 
while  there  are  also  narrow  transverse  bars  of  white,  the 
breast  being  ochery-brown  and  becoming  light  on  the  belly. 


444  THE    WOODCOCK. 

Audubon  reported  this  little  Rail  as  abundant  in  the  ex- 
treme Southern  States,  but  it  is  now  regarded  as  rather  rare 
throughout  its  range.  The  above  author  gives  its  nest  as 
made  in  a  tussock  of  grass,  and  its  eggs  as  white.  Dr. 
Coues  describes  a  set  of  the  eggs  in  the  Smithsonian  Insti- 
tution as  "  rich,  warm,  buffy- brown,  marked  at  the  great 
end  with  a  cluster  of  reddish-chocolate  dots  and  spots. 
Size  1.15  x- 85  to  1.05  x. 80." 

The  rare  eggs  of  the  little  Black  Rail,  which  have  been 
found  .as  far  north  as  New  Jersey,  "are  creamy- white, 
sprinkled  all  over  with  fine  dots  of  rich,  bright,  reddish- 
brown,  and  with  a  few  spots,  of  some  little  size,  at  the  great 
end.  *  *  *  Dimensions  1.05X.80." 

The  head  and  under  parts  of  this  bird  are  grayish-black, 
the  upper  parts  black,  speckled  with  white,  the  lower  neck 
and  upper  back  being  dark  chestnut;  feet,  yellowish-green. 

The  general  habits  of  these  two  species  would  seem  to  be 
like  those  of  the  rest  of  the  family. 

THE    WOODCOCK. 

As  I  traverse  this  marsh  about  Burnt-ship  Creek,  on  these 
hot,  dry  days  of  late  August,  I  every  now  and  then  start  up 
a  Woodcock.  Rising  a  little  above  the  tops  of  the  grasses, 
it  appears  but  for  a  few  seconds  and  then  drops  out  of  sight, 
so  that  it  requires  a  remarkably  quick  and  good  aim  to 
shoot  it  while  describing  its  short  and  sudden  curve,  slow 
as  its  flight  appears.  Probably  no  bird  is  so  well  known  to 
the  sportsmen  of  Eastern  North  America  as  the  Woodcock 
(Philohela  minor').  Its  flesh  is  in  great  requisition  for  the 
table,  and,  as  it  shelters  itself  closely,  lies  well  to  the  dog, 
and  affords  a  tempting  shot  on  the  wing,  its  capture  is  a 
most  agreeable  excitement.  Its  habit,  too,  of  changing 
place  according  to  the  weather  makes  the  finding  of  it  a 


446  THE    WOODCOCK. 

study;  while  its  sudden  appearance  in  large  numbers,  or  its 
entire  disappearance  all  at  once,  gives  its  capture  the  air  of 
chance.  Reaching  Western  New  York  about  the  first  of 
April,  this  bird  resorts  to  the  swamps,  low  woods,  thickets, 
or  the  hill-sides. 

In  this  region  the  nidification  of  the  Woodcock  occurs  in 
the  latter  part  of  April.  The  nest  is  on  the  ground,  in  some 
low  woods  or  thicket,  sheltered  by  a  bush,  or  bunch  of  grass, 
or  ferns,  is  formed,  quite  indifferently,  of  dried  leaves  or 
grasses,  and  contains  four  or  five  eggs,  some  1.51  x  1.19,  and 
"much  more  oval  than  the  eggs  of  allied  birds.  They  are  a 
light  creamish-brown,  pretty  well  spotted,  especially  around 
the  large  end,  but  not  heavily  blotched  with  reddish-brown 
and  lilac.  I  have  now  in  my  possession  an  egg  of  this 
species  which  is  almost  round. 

The  young,  nearly  the  color  of  brown  chickens,  run  about 
as  soon  as  hatched.  When  in  Nova  Scotia  last  June  (1883), 
riding  with  a  friend  through  a  rather  open  woods,  about  the 
15th,  a  female  Woodcock  rose  from  almost  under  the  car- 
riage wheels.  Looking  down  I  spied  five  half-grown  young 
ones  squatting  motionless  within  a  few  feet  of  the  wheel- 
track.  Stopping  the  vehicle,  I  jumped  out  and  went  almost 
near  enough  to  touch  them,  when  they  rose  and  left  in 
haste,  about  as  well  able  to  fly  as  the  parent.  How  did 
they  learn  to  "play  'possum"  in  this  manner? 

How  the  Woodcock  feeds  in  the  dusky  twilight,  or  at 
night;  how  neatly  he  bores  the  soft  ground  in  quest  of 
earth-worms,  or  turns  the  leaves  in  search  of  his  food;  what 
immense  quantities  he  consumes;  how  he  changes  place, 
from  the  swamp  to  the  woods,  to  the  hill-side,  or  to  the 
grain-fields,  according  to  the  weather  or  the  season;  how  he 
leaves  us  for  the  south  when  frosts  set  in — all  this  has  been 
frequently  and  well  noted  alike  by  the  ornithologist  and 


THE    WOODCOCK.  447 

the  sportsman;  while  the  manner  in  which  his  haunts  have 
been  studied  and  scoured  with  dog  and  gun,  merely  to 
gratify  the  palate,  or  the  love  of  shooting,  is  too  well  known 
to  need  either  note  or  comment,  except  by  way  of  earnest 
deprecation. 

The  shape  of  the  Woodcock  is  unlike  that  of  any  other 
bird.  Some  eleven  or  twelve  inches  long — the  male  being 
quite  a  good  deal  less — with  a  bill  nearly  three  inches  long, 
and  deep  and  strong  at  the  base,  his  legs  and  tail  uncommonly 
short,  his  whole  body,  including  head  and  neck,  thick  and 
bulky,  and  his  large  black  eyes  so  near  the  back  of  his 
head,  complete  the  oddness  of  his  personal  appearance.  On 
the  whole,  he  makes  one  think  of  a  short,  thick  man  in  a 
swallow-tail  coat;  and  his  eyes  are  so  placed  that  he  can  see 
above  and  behind  about  as  well  as  before.  Did  the  Creator 
locate  his  eyes  in  anticipation  of  the  merciless  manner  in 
which  he  is  hunted  down?  The  Woodcock  is  far  from  being 
unpleasing,  however,  in  his  general  appearance.  The  light 
chestnut  feathers  of  the  under  parts,  delicately  fringed  with 
lighter;  the  white  patch  on  the  throat,  shading  into  the  adjoin- 
ing tints;  the  bright  drab  on  the  head,  the  sides  of  the  neck, 
and  mixed  in  with  the  fine  pencilings  of  wings  and  tail;  the 
velvety  black  from  the  eye  to  the  mouth,  and  below  the 
former,  on  the  back  of  the  head,  and  adown  the  back, 
scapulars,  and  tail,  all  so  finely  tipped  and  penciled  with 
drab  and  light  red  as  to  appear  fairly  illuminated — all  these 
render  the  bird  an  object  of  no  common  beauty. 

Differing  from  the  European  Woodcock  in  size — being  ^3 
less,  also  in  marking  and  in  structure,  particularly  in  the 
narrowness  of  the  first  three  primaries,  our  Woodcock  is  a 
common  bird  of  the  Eastern  United  States,  and  extends 
quite  commonly,  as  a  summer  resident,  into  New  Brunswick 
and  Nova  Scotia.  Audubon  did  not  find  it  in  Newfoundland 


448  THE   PIGEON  HA  WK. 

and  Labrador,  but  was  told  that  it  bred  in  the  former  prov- 
ince. Though  found  in  the  middle  districts,  even  to  South- 
ern New  England,  in  winter,  this  species  generally  finds  its 
home  at  that  time  in  the  sunnier  climes  of  the  Southern 
States,  and  even  there  it  is  said  to  almost  disappear,  in  any 
locality,  on  the  occurrence  of  a  sharp  frost.  It  also 
breeds  quite  commonly  in  most,  if  not  in  all,  parts  of  the 
south. 

THE    PIGEON    HAWK. 

On  the  28th  of  August,  as  my  friend  and  I  are  seating 
ourselves  in  the  boat  for  a  trip  to  Chippewa,  Ontario,  I  have 
no  sooner  removed  the  caps  from  my  gun,  for  the  sake  of 
safety,  than  a  pair  of  beautiful  Pigeon  Hawks  (Falco  colum- 
barius)  make  their  appearance.  First  the  one  and  then  the 
other  hovers  over  us,  just  near  enough  for  a  good  shot,  but 
before  I  can  get  ready  they  are  gone.  How  provoking  ! 
Moral — be  always  ready  for  a  shot.  Columbarius  is,  for  the 
most  part,  simply  a  rather  common  migrant  in  this  locality, 
though  I  am  inclined  to  think  a  few  breed  here,  as  they  are 
supposed  to  do  in  Eastern  Massachusetts.  With  notched 
and  toothed  mandible,  long  pointed  wings,  having  the  outer 
pinions  narrowed  on  the  inner  vanes,  tarsus  more  or  less 
feathered  above,  after  the  manner  of  the  genus  Falco,  this 
bird  is  11-12  inches  long;  extent,  24.00;  wing,  8.25;  tail, 
5.50;  bill,  .75;  the  male,  the  smaller,  after  the  manner  of  the 
birds  of  prey,  is  dark  bluish-slate  above,  every  feather  hav- 
ing a  shaft-line  of  black;  primaries  black,  tipped  with 
whitish;  tail,  light  bluish-ash,  nearly  white  on  the  inner 
webs,  tipped  with  whitish,  with  a  deep  subterminal  band,  and 
several  other  narrower  bands  of  black;  forehead  and  throat 
white;  under  parts  and  wing-linings,  pale  buff,  streaked  with 
brown.  Female  similar,  but  tinted  with  brown  above,  and 
having  larger  and  darker  markings  below. 


THE  PIGEON  HA  WK.  449 

Following  them  in  their  migrations,  columbarius  subsists 
mostly  on  the  smaller  birds,  capturing  them  on  the  wing. 
His  northward  movements  are  in  April,  and  his  southward  in 
September  and  October.  Ensconced  away  in  the  bushes, 
you  may  witness  his  deadly  chase,  as  with  astonishing  speed, 
darting  to  the  right  and  left,  he  pursues  some  Thrush,  Spar- 
row, or  Blackbird,  or  even  a  bird  near  his  own  size;  striking 
his  claws  into  its  vitals,  on  overtaking  it,  and  devouring  it 
near  the  place  of  capture.  He  does  not  hover  like  the  Spar- 
row Hawk.  Always  taking  his  prey  alive,  he  prefers  an 
open  pasture  or  grove  for  his  swift  pursuit.  Here  he  may 
sit  on  his  perch  quietly  awaiting  his  victim,  and  if  he  change 
place,  flying  up  a  little  when  about  to  alight,  he  will  turn 
about  and  face  his  late  site  or  route,  and  presently  dropping 
down,  skim  the  ground  almost  as  low  as  a  Buzzard;  not 
in  the  same  sailing  manner,  however,  but  with  frequent 
and  nervous  strokes  of  the  wings.  When,  occasionally,  he 
does  sail,  it  is  in  an  uneasy,  tipping  style,  which  distin- 
guishes him  almost  as  readily  as  does  the  mottled  appear- 
ance under  his  wings.  When  he  is  satiated  with  his  prey, 
his  destructiveness  ceases;  and  those  birds  which  are  usually 
his  victims  may  disport  themselves  around  him  in  perfect 
safety. 

The  Pigeon  Hawk's  general  breeding  place  is  to  the  north- 
ward. The  nest,  which  may  be  on  a  rock,  but  more  com- 
monly in  the  hollow  of  a  tree  or  in  its  branches,  is  made  of 
sticks  and  grasses;  sometimes  strips  of  bark  are  added,  the 
lining  being  of  moss  or  feathers.  The  eggs,  4  or  5,  some  1.65 
X  1.30,  are  sometimes  quite  roundish,  and  again  even  elon- 
gate-oval. u  Coloration  ranges  from  a  nearly  uniform  deep, 
rich  brown  (chestnut  or  burnt  sienna),  to  whitish  or  white 
only,  marked  with  a  few  indistinct  dots  of  dull  grayish  or 
drab."  (Stearns.) 
29 


450  THE   GREAT  BLUE  HERON. 

THE    GREAT    BLUE    HERON. 

In  the  late  dusk  of  evening,  we  are  sure  to  see  a  pair  of 
Great  Blue  Herons  (Ardea  herodias)  pass  up  the  river, 
but  a  few  rods  out,  and  alight  in  the  shallow  margin  of  the 
river  just  above  our  tent,  thus  affording  a  good  view  of  a 
very  shy  bird.  They  present  an  odd  figure,  as  with  enor- 
mous spread  of  wings,  legs  dangling  far  out  behind,  and 
neck  extended,  they  fly  just  above  the  surface,  hanking 
somewhat  after  the  manner  of  Wild  Geese.  Sometimes 
they  may  be  seen  on  this  same  spot  in  the  clear  light  of 
early  morning,  wading  about  and  seizing  and  swallowing 
their  prey,  apparently  without  the  least  circumspection; 
sometimes  standing  at  ease  on  one  leg,  the  other  being 
drawn  up,  and  the  long  neck  folded  closely  on  the  breast, 
while  the  eye  gazes  intently  into  the  water.  Quick  as 
thought  the  attitude  is  changed.  The  body  is  thrown  forward 
and  the  neck  extended,  while  the  head  darts  into  the  water; 
the  ill-fated  fish  which  he  brings  up,  impaled  on  his  long, 
pointed  mandibles,  disappears  down  his  capacious  gullet 
with  a  few  jerks  of  the  head.  How  graceful  is  every  atti- 
tude and  motion  of  this  gigantic  bird.  And  yet,  when  slain, 
how  ungainly  he  appears.  Some  4  feet  and  several  inches  from 
the  tip  of  the  bill  to  the  end  of  the  tail,  and  a  foot  longer 
from  the  tip  of  the  bill  to  the  ends  of  the  toes,  the  general 
color  is  a  delicate  bluish-ash,  the  neck  slightly  tinged  with 
brown,  and  having  a  spotted  or  streaked  throat-line  adown 
the  front;  the  long,  slender,  almost  thread-like,  scapulars 
and  lower  feathers  of  the  neck,  white;  plumes  of  the  head, 
of  which  two,  in  the  mature  state,  are  long  and  filiform, 
black;  crown  and  throat,  white;  thighs  and  wing-shoulders, 
brown;  under  parts,  black,  streaked  with  white;  eyes  and 
bill,  yellow.  Male  and  female  are  alike,  except  that 
the  latter  is  smaller.  The  young  are  similar,  lacking 


THE   GREAT  BLUE   HERON. 


452  THE  GREAT  BLUE  HERON. 

the  long  ornamental  feathers,  and  having  the  neck 
spotted. 

As  this  bird  rises  out  of  the  water,  it  seems  immense,  and 
requires  many  strong  beats  of  its  wings  before  obtaining 
an  easy  flight.  Once  well  on  the  wing,  it  moves  majestically, 
with  a  firm  and  regular  stroke  of  the  great  wings,  the  neck 
folded  into  a  big  lump,  and  the  long  legs  extended  behind 
like  an  immense  tail.  Occupying,  in  summer,  "  entire  tem- 
perate North  America,"  it  ornaments  the  landscape  of  Nova 
Scotia  and  New  Brunswick  about  as  commonly  as  that  of 
the  Middle  States,  and  occasionally  puts  in  an  appearance 
even  as  far  north  as  Hudson's  Bay;  thus  differing  from  the 
Herons  in  general,  which  incline  to  the  tropics  and  warm, 
temperate  regions. 

The  food  of  herodias  is  fish,  for  the  most  part,  but  may 
consist  of  frogs,  mice  and  insects.  Commonly  breeding  in 
communities,  sometimes  singly,  however,  the  nests  are  gen- 
erally placed  in  the  tops  of  tall  trees,  often  in  swamps 
almost  or  quite  inaccessible,  and  often  in  immense  numbers. 
Sometimes  the  communities  of  nests  are  placed  in  pine 
forests  some  miles  from  any  swamp  or  body  of  water,  or 
they  may  be  near,  or  even  on  the  ground.  Along  the  Col- 
orado River,  where  there  is  a  lack  of  the  large  trees  neces- 
sary to  support  the  immense  bulk  of  the  nest,  these  Her- 
ons breed  on  the  ledges  of  the  gigantic  walls  of  the  can- 
ons. In  the  Southern  States  Audubon  often  saw  them  on 
cactuses. 

The  nest,  some  two  feet  in  diameter,  is  of  the  platform 
style,  the  lower  part  of  sticks,  the  surface  of  a  rather  thick 
bed  of  grasses,  weeds  and  mosses.  The  eggs,  two  or  three, 
are  about  2.50x1-50,  elliptical,  clear  pale-greenish.  These 
Herons  often  fly  immense  distances  to  their  feeding  grounds, 
and  having  selected  certain  places,  seem  to  adhere  to  them 


THE    WHITE-HEADED  EAGLE.  453 

throughout  the  season.  In  the  Southern  States,  where 
these  birds  spend  the  winter,  they  often  congregate  in  great 
numbers.  Here  they  also  breed  abundantly  early  in  the 
season.* 

THE    WHITE-HEADED    EAGLE. 

As  in  the  days  of  Wilson,  the  White-headed  Eagle 
(Haliaetus  leucocephalus)  is  still  a  common  and  character- 
istic bird  of  Niagara  River  throughout  the  year.  Now,  as 
then,  he  may  be  seen  soaring  majestically  in  the  great  cloud 
of  spray  ever  rising  from  the  cataract,  or  reconnoitering 
the  rapids,  rushing  along  the  sublime  gorge,  in  search  of 
the  ill-fated  animals  or  birds  which  have  perished  in  these 
waters;  or  sailing  serenely  above  the  broad  and  beautiful 
expanse  of  the  river,  from  Queenstown  Heights,  to  Lake 
Ontario.  Not  infrequently  he  appears  in  the  vicinity  of  my 
tent,  alighting  in  the  adjoining  grove,  or  flying  low  over 
the  troubled  waters. 

In  appearance  at  least,  this  is,  perhaps,  the  most  magnifi- 
cent bird  of  our  continent.  Closely  allied  to  the  Buzzards, 
both  in  structure  and  in  grandeur  of  flight,  his  rich,  dark- 
brown  figure,  adorned  with  snow-white  head  and  tail,  is 
simply  incomparable,  while  his  great  size  and  gigantic 
spread  of  wings  give  him  a  peculiar  majesty,  whether  he 
beat  the  air  in  regular  strokes,  or  sail  in  sublime  repose. 
Look  at  him,  and  reflect  on  human  imbecility,  as  he  soars 
into  the  heavens,  till  he  becomes  a  mere  speck  against  the 
ether!  Imagine  the  extent  of  landscape  of  which  he  has 
in  very  deed  a  "bird's-eye  view."  According  to  Audubon 
he  can  sail  entirely  out  of  sight  without  a  single  stroke  of 
the  wings. 

*  Similar  to  the  former  species,  but  several  inches  longer,  and  proportionately  larger 
every  way,  is  the  Florida  Heron  (Herodias  wurdemanni).  Its  habits,  too,  are  quite  sim- 
ilar. Its  habitat  would  seem  to  be  the  Florida  Keys;  possibly  it  strays,  occasionally,  to 
the  mainland.  "Known  from  the  preceding  species  by  th*;  naked  tibiae;  white-top  to 
head;  black  forehead,  and  white  under  parts.  (Maynard.) 


454 


THE    WHITE-HEADED  EAGLE. 


Next  to  the  Osprey,  in  his  preference  for  a  piscivorous 
diet,  he  is  ever  to  be  associated  with  great  bodies  of  water — 
broad  rivers,  immense  lakes,  and  the  roar  and  foam  of  the 


ocean.  Unlike  that  noble  bird,  however,  he  does  not  gen- 
erally plunge  into  the  wave  for  his  prey,  but  is  content  with 
the  carcasses  which  float  upon  its  surface.  In  the  absence  of 
fish,  he  is  satisfied  with  any  animal  food,  and  that,  even  in 


THE    WHITE-HEADED  EAGLE.  455 

the  condition  of  carrion.  Many  graceful  evolutions  have  I 
seen  him  perform  over  the  putrid  carcass  of  a  horse,  floating 
down  the  river.  He  has  another  noted  habit,  which  not 
only  betrays  a  low  taste,  but  a  flagrant  dishonesty — that  of 
pilfering  the  hard-earned  prey  of  the  Fish  Hawk.  Mark 
this  king  of  birds,  so  high  uplifted  above  all  others  of  his 
kind,  that  he  seems  enthroned  among  the  clouds.  One 
would  think  him  wrapt  in  the  sublimest  meditations,  and 
all  unmindful  of  the  hosts  of  feathered  tribes  which  occupy 
the  ground  and  the  different  strata  of  the  lower  air;  but, 
lo!  no  sooner  does  the  Osprey  emerge  from  the  waters  with 
his  struggling  prey,  than  that  piercing  eye  detects  him  from 
afar,  and  swoops  upon  him  with  terrific  speed;  and,  not- 
withstanding the  swiftness  and  the  splendid  evolutions 
achieved  by  Pandion^  he  is  soon  so  sorely  pressed  as  to  be 
compelled  to  drop  his  prey  and  make  off,  saving  nothing 
but  his  disgust  and  indignation,  which  are  riot  infrequently 
expressed  by  strong  and  significant  cries.  Meanwhile  the 
fish  has  scarcely  escaped  the  talons  of  the  Fish  Hawk  when 
it  is  grappled  by  those  of  the  Eagle  and  borne  away  for 
destruction. 

It  is  decidedly  against  my  inclinations  to  disclose  these 
unseemly  facts  concerning  the  Eagle,  especially  as  he  has  be- 
come the  symbol  of  our  great  nation;  but  as  a  narrator 
of  facts  in  natural  history,  I  cannot  be  excused.  The  truth 
is,  that  in  niceness  of  habit,  our  sublime  bird  is  by  no 
means  the  equal  of  many  of  his  kindred  Raptores;  and, 
while  in  general  appearance  he  may  fitly  represent  the  glory 
of  a  nation,  on  account  of  the  manners  above  named,  he  is 
by  no  means  altogether  suggestive  of  noble  principles.  Nor 
is  he  always  brave.  Hence  Dr.  Franklin  was  not  wholly  in 
favor  of  his  adoption  for  our  national  seal.  Sometimes, 
however,  glaring  faults  are  quite  thrown  into  the  shade  by 


456  THE    WHITE-HEADED  EAGLE. 

great  virtues  and  gigantic  proportions  of  character.  In 
later  years,  the  history  of  a  certain  individual  of  our  Hali- 
aetus  has  fully  vindicated  the  adoption  of  the  Eagle  to  sym- 
bolize the  national  glory  of  the  United  States,  as  well  as  the 
adoption  of  its  kind,  for  a  similar  purpose,  by  various  na- 
tions from  the  most  ancient  times,  including  Rome  and 
France.  The  famous  Wisconsin  Eagle,  called  "  Old  Abe," 
has  a  history  which  fills  a  volume,  and  justly  renders  him 
immortal.  Taken,  by  the  son  of  an  Indian  Chief,  from  a 
nest  in  the  northern  part  of  the  State,  where  an  extensive 
net-work  of  lakes  and  streams  find  their  outlet,  in  the  Chip- 
pewa  River,  and  reared  by  the  same,  he  was  sold,  when  two 
months  old,  to  a  resident  of  Eau  Claire,  in  August,  1861,  for 
a  bushel  of  corn.  This  gentleman  afterward  sold  him  to 
the  Eighth  Wisconsin  Infantry.  He  was  formally  sworn 
into  the  service,  provided  with  a  perch  and  bearer,  and 
passed  three  years  in  the  hottest  of  the  late  war  ;  and  pass- 
ing through  36  battles  and  skirmishes,  was  brought  back  by 
a  mere  remnant  of  his  company,  to  his  native  State,  un- 
harmed. The  intelligence  he  evinced  in  this  grand  career 
was  surprising.  Avenging  every  insult,  or  even  unwarrant- 
able liberty,  in  the  most  signal,  and  sometimes  ludicrous, 
manner,  he  recognized  friends  with  the  utmost  appreciation; 
seeming  to  understand  and  sympathize  with  every  move- 
ment of  his  regiment.  He  would  drop  from  his  perch,  when 
the  men  lay  down  under  a  heavy  firing  from  the  enemy, 
and  mount  it  again  when  they  rose.  He  would  whistle  in 
expression  of  approval,  and  flap  his  wings  at  each  round  of 
cheers  or  peal  of  music ;  and,  snapping  asunder  the  cord 
which  bound  him  to  his  perch,  would  soar  above  the  smoke 
and  din  of  battle,  cheering  his  regiment  with  loud  and  most 
significant  screams;  and  afterward  alighting  on  its  standard, 
would  seem  to  participate  in  the  joy  of  victory.  After  his 


THE    WHITE-HEADED  EAGLE.  457 

return  from  the  battle-field,  he  was  on  exhibition  in  various 
places  where  funds  were  being  raised  for  suffering  soldiers  and 
their  families,  and  by  September  25th,  1865,  had  been  the 
means  of  securing  a  fund  of  $25,000.  The  sum  of  $20,000 
has  been  offered  for  him,  and  at  the  Centennial  Exhibition 
of  1876,  at  Philadelphia,  he  was  an  object  of  universal  ad- 
miration. Here  he  would  stand  on  his  perch  in.  such  per- 
fect repose  as  to  puzzle  a  stranger  to  determine  whether 
he  were  a  living  bird  or  a  specimen  of  taxidermy.  In 
this  attitude,  he  reminded  one  of  one  way  in  which  the 
Eagle  generally  spends  much  of  his  time,  namely,  perched 
on  some  conspicuous  limb  of  a  tall  tree  by  a  large  stream 
or  body  of  water,  and  remaining  as  motionless  as  if  wrapt 
in  profound  meditation.  We  regret  to  say  that  Old  Abe 
has  recently  passed  away. 

The  White-headed  Eagle  is  about  3  feet  long;  body  dark- 
brown,  tinged  with  golden,  many  of  the  feathers  being 
elegantly  tipped  with  golden-yellow,  strongly  contrasting 
with,  and  delicately  shading  into,  the  darker  parts;  head  and 
tail,  snow-white;  eyes  and  feet,  bright  yellow.  The  epithet 
"Bald"  has  no  foundation  except  in  appearance,  as  the 
head  is  well  covered  with  long,  pointed  feathers.  The 
young  have  little  or  no  white,  and  reach  the  mature  plum- 
age about  the  third  year,  or  in  some  instances,  it  is  thought, 
not  till  some  ten  years.  According  to  Coues,  "  the  imma- 
ture birds  average  larger  than  the  adults;  the  famous  'Bird 
of  Washington  '  being  a  case  in  point." 

In  structure  and  in  general  appearance  the  Eagle  must  be 
regarded  as  the  most  perfect  ideal  of  the  birds  of  prey.  In 
repose  or  in  motion,  gracefulness,  combined  with  strength,  is 
expressed  to  perfection.  Whether  associated  with  the  gliding 
stream,  the  placid  lake,  the  tempest-tossed  ocean,  or  the  rug- 
ged mountain,  he  is  ever  a  grand  ornament  to  the  landscape. 


458  THE    WHITE-HEADED  EAGLE. 

The  nest  from  which  "Abe"  was  taken,  found  on  a  pine 
tree  near  some  rapids  in  a  curve  of  the  Flambeau  River, 
and  big  as  a  washtub,  made  of  sticks,  turf  and  weeds,  and  re- 
moved to  the  Indian  village  to  rear  the  young  bird  in,  which 
served  as  a  plaything  for  the  pappooses,  may  be  regarded 
as  representative  of  the  Eagle's  nest  in  general.  The  two 
eggs,  about  3.00  X  2.50,  are  a  dull  white,  and  are  laid  very 
early  in  spring,  probably  not  later  than  the  latter  part  of 
March  or  the  first  days  of  April.  In  Michigan,  I  have  seen 
the  young  nearly  as  large  as  their  parents,  and  about  ready 
to  leave  the  nest  by  the  last  days  of  May.  A  curious 
instance  of  nidification  on  the  part  of  this  species  was 
recently  described  to  me  by  Mr.  Herbert  Macklem,  of 
Chippewa,  Ontario. 

On  the  bank  of  Niagara  River,  and  owned  by  this  gen- 
tleman, was  a  farm  which  had  not  been  occupied  for  several 
years,  and  which  was  some  miles  distant  from  the  nearest 
residence.  A  missing  board  from  the  end  of  the  barn  giv- 
ing access  to  a  large  quantity  of  straw  in  the  mow,  the 
Eagles  had  arranged  a  nest  there,  which  contained  young 
when  discovered  by  the  owner  of  the  property. 

The  solicitude  of  the  Eagle  for  its  young  cannot  be 
surpassed  even  by  that  of  the  human  species.  One  or  the 
other  of  the  parent  birds  seems  to  be  constantly  reconnoiter- 
ing  the  neighborhood  of  the  nest;  and,  on  the  least  approach 
of  danger,  they  fly  about  with  a  most  nervous  and  excited 
beat  of  the  wings,  yelping  like  young  puppies.  Every  now 
and  then  they  will  alight  in  a  tree  by  the  nest,  very  soon 
to  drop  down  in  an  angry  swoop  toward  the  intruder. 

As  an  instance  of  the  attachment  of  the  parent  bird  to 
the  young,  Wilson  gives  the  following:  "A  person  near 
Norfolk  informed  me  that,  in  clearing  a  piece  of  wood  on 
his  place,  they  met  with  a  large,  dead  pine  tree  on  which  was 


FORT  ERIE.  459 

a  Bald  Eagle's  nest  and  young.  The  tree  being  on  fire 
more  than  half  way  up,  and  the  flames  rapidly  ascending, 
the  parent  Eagle  darted  around  and  among  the  flames  until 
her  plumage  was  so  much  injured  that  it  was  with  difficulty 
she  could  make  her  escape,  and  even  then  she  several  times 
attempted  to  return  to  relieve  her  offspring." 

The  White-headed,  or  Bald  Eagles,  common  to  all  North 
America,  and  mating,  in  all  probability,  for  life,  are  resident 
throughout  the  year  wherever  the  streams  and  bodies  of 
water  are  sufficiently  open  to  afford  sustenance.  Eagles  in 
general  have  a  remarkable  longevity,  reaching  a  hundred 
years  or  upwards,  even  in  confinement.  This  one,  as  well 
as  certain  others  of  the  world,  is  said  to  attack  young 
children  occasionally.  Wilson  cites  "a  woman  who,  hap- 
pening to  be  weeding  in  the  garden,  had  set  her  child  down 
near,  to  amuse  itself  while  she  was  at  work,  when  a  sudden 
and  extraordinary  rushing  sound,  and  a  scream  from  her 
child,  alarmed  her,  and  starting  up,  she  beheld  the  infant 
thrown  down  and  dragged  some  few  feet,  and  a  large  Bald 
Eagle  bearing  off  a  fragment  of  its  frock,  which  being  the 
only  part  seized,  and  giving  way,  providentially  saved  the 
life  of  the  infant." 

FORT    ERIE. 

Changing  the  location  of  my  tent  to  the  government 
grounds  of  Canada,  near  the  remains  of  old  Fort  Erie,  opposite 
the  city  of  Buffalo,  I  spend  many  days  watching  the  Shore 
Birds  in  their  migrations.  It  is  a  beautiful  spot,  fanned 
constantly,  during  these  last  days  of  dry  summer  heat,  by 
the  most  refreshing  lake  breezes.  Here,  too,  where  once 
was  all  the  roar  of  artillery  in  war,  and  in  later  times  all 
the  rumble  of  a  grand  railroad  terminus  now  removed,  it  is 
most  delightfully  quiet.  To  the  westward  I  look  out 
upon  the  broad  expanse  of  Lake  Erie;  in  the  southern  hori- 


460  FORT  ERIE. 

zon  rise  the  distant  mountains  towards  Pennsylvania;  and 
directly  east  is  the  city  with  all  its  mingled  scenery.  In 
the  morning  a  dense  fog  along  the  river  and  lake,  like  a 
thick  curtain,  may  shut  off  the  view  of  the  city  entirely, 
the  din  and  noise  of  the  great  stirring  community  seeming 
only  the  nearer  for  this  obscurity.  Later  in  the  day  the  air 
and  sky  are  clear,  beautiful  and  balmy;  in  the  twilight,  the 
harvest  moon  hangs  like  a  great  fire-ball  over  the  center  of 
the  city;  and  in  the  evening,  the  lights  of  streets  and  dwell- 
ings mark  out  a  complete  outline  of  the  town.  Day  and 
night  I  listen  to  the  voices  of  the  birds,  most  of  which  are 
described  elsewhere  in  this  work.  I  have  many  fine  views 
of  the  earlier  migrations  of  the  land-birds,  but  am  specially 
interested  in  the  movements  of  the  little  Waders,  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  which  are  about  as  well  represented  here  as  they 
are  on  the  sea-coast. 

In  the  last  days  of  August  a  flock  of  some  nine  of  the  Red- 
breasted  Snipe  (Macrorhamphus  griseus]  appears,  sometimes 
called  Gray  Snipe,  Brown-back,  or  Dowitcher.  It  is  some  1 2.00 
long  and  19.00  in  extent,  the  legs  long,  and  the  bill  pre- 
cisely like  that  of  the  Common  Snipe;  in  summer  the  gen- 
eral color  is  dark-brown,  the  feathers  edged  with  reddish; 
underneath  dark-red,  edged  and  mixed  with  dusky;  tail  and 
coverts  banded  with  black  and  white.  In  winter,  gray  above 
and  on  the  breast;  the  belly,  eye-brow  and  lower  eye-lid, 
white.  It  is  always  distinguishable  by  its  white  shaft  in  the 
outer  primary.  The  nest  is  after  the  manner  of  the  Snipe, 
the  eggs  also  being  similar  in  color,  and  about  1.65X1.12. 

About  the  same  time,  and  for  some  six  weeks  later,  an 
occasional  flock  of  the  Pectoral  Sandpiper  (Tringa  maculatd) 
appears.  Some  9.00  long  and  16.50  in  extent,  the  upper 
parts  are  dark  brown,  the  feathers  generally  edged  or  tipped 
with  yellowish  or  reddish;  the  brown  tail,  being  darker  in 


NIAGARA   RIVER  AND    THE  DUCKS.  461 

the  center,  is  tipped  with  white  or  whitish;  the  neck,  breast 
and  sides,  yellowish-gray,  with  dark  streaks;  legs  greenish. 
The  breast  marking  is  differentiating.  It  is  sometimes 
called  the  Jack  Snipe. 

Of  very  frequent  appearance  during  these  days  is  the 
Sanderling  or  Ruddy  Plover  (Calidris  arenarid).  Some  7.50 
long,  it  has  the  rather  short,  straight,  grooved  bill,  and  the 
plain-colored  tail  of  the  Sandpipers.  The  upper  parts  are 
light  ashy,  streaked  with  black,  and  edged  with  reddish  in 
summer,  but  not  in  winter;  the  under  parts,  from  the  neck, 
are  pure  white,  making  each  member  of  the  flock  a  gleam- 
ing white  point  in  the  landscape,  as  it  tips  up  in  flight.  This 
Beach-bird,  as  it  is  often  called,  is  rather  silent,  appearing 
singly  or  in  flocks.  Its  flight  is  beautiful,  and  it  walks, 
wades  and  runs  most  gracefully  on  the  shore.  These  Sand- 
pipers, like  their  relatives,  breed  far  to  the  north. 

On  a  gray  October  day,  a  flock  of  some  half-dozen  little 
Brown  Titlarks  (Anthus  ludovicianus)  alights  in  the  shallow 
water  on  the  rocks  and  wash  themselves.  Some  6.50  long, 
ashy-brown  above,  tinged  with  olive,  the  centers  of 
the  feathers  darker  and  the  edges  lighter;  the  outer  tail- 
feathers  white;  the  eyelids,  curved  line  on  the  cheeks,  and 
under  parts,  brownish  or  creamy-white  ;  the  breast  and 
sides  streaked  with  dusky-ash.  This  dainty,  dove-like 
walker,  having  a  peculiar  jerking,  tossing  motion  of  the  tail, 
breeds  in  Labrador  and  northward,  and  down  to  Colorado 
in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  4-6  very  dark-colored  eggs 
are  laid  "  in  a  mossy  nest  on  the  ground."  This  bird  passes 
us  early  in  May  in  its  northward  migration,  and  in  October 
southward. 

NIAGARA    RIVER    AND    THE    DUCKS. 

Niagara  River  is  a  good  place  to  study  the  Ducks  in  the 
times  of  migration,  or  even  in  the  winter.  As  it  does  not 


462  NIAGARA   RIVER  AND    THE  DUCKS. 

freeze  over,  some  species  remain  from  fall  till  spring.  In 
March,  or  early  in  April,  about  Grand  Island,  Buckhorn 
and  Navy  Islands,  the  Golden-eye,  or  Whistler,  is  one  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  locality.  It  may  be  seen  in  fair-sized 
flocks,  or  in  immense  ones  of  many  hundreds,  diving  about 
feeding  places,  after  its  usual  manner  of  obtaining  its 
favorite  cray-fish,  the  claws  and  other  remains  of  which  are 
always  to  be  found  in  its  gizzard;  to  which  diet  it  may  add 
small  mollusks,  frogs,  tadpoles  and  fishes.  When  thus 
engaged,  and  not  in  fear  of  molestation,  they  are  indeed 
a  merry  company,  the  very  picture  of  soul  and  energy, 
and  thrifty  contentment,  each  one  staying  under  the 
water  a  half  minute  at  a  time  and  remaining  above  only 
about  seven  seconds.  What  a  charm  there  is  in  watching 
a  Duck  dive  !  Every  pulse  of  the  observer  is  quickened  as 
the  sprightly  creature  plunges  under.  Very  frequently  the 
whole  flock  is  under  the  water  at  once.  Generally  several 
sentinels  remain  on  guard.  Every  now  and  then,  on 
coming  up,  the  male  will  throw  up  his  head  and  utter  a 
low,  guttural  chuckle.  This  is  probably  his  courting  note, 
and  is  the  only  vocal  performance  one  hears  from  these 
birds  during  their  stay.  They  like  to  dive  in  swift  currents 
for  their  food,  and  then  gradually  work  upward  in  the 
stream.  They  are  particularly  at  home  in  streams  and 
rivers,  and  visit  the  smaller  as  well  as  the  larger  currents. 
The  Golden-eye  decoys  well,  especially  any  stray  one  which 
may  be  flying  about;  but  it  is  exceedingly  shy  and  keen- 
eyed.  When  the  shot  misses  it  on  the  water,  or  it  is  sud- 
denly alarmed,  it  dives  readily,  darting  out  of  the  water  in 
a  few  seconds  with  surprising  velocity.  It  is  one  of  the 
swiftest  of  all  the  Ducks  in  flight.  Audubon  estimated  its 
speed  at  ninety  miles  an  hour.  One  is  always  advised  of 
its  flight  by  the  sharp  whistling  sound  of  its  pointed  wings, 


NIAGARA    RIVER  AND    THE   DUCKS.  463 

which  afe  almost  of  metallic  firmness.  Choo-choo-choo-choo- 
choo-choo,  given  as  rapidly  as  possible,  may  recall  the  start- 
ling sound,  which  soon  becomes  very  familiar,  and  may  be 
heard  distinctly  some  half  a  mile  or  more.  The  beat  of  the 
wings  is  so  rapid  that,  as  the  bird  flies  from  you,  the  white 
secondaries  form  a  hazy  semicircle  on  each  side  of  the  dark 
posterior  of  the  body,  the  black  primaries  adding  still 
larger  semicircles  beyond.  When  flying  past,  the  oval  spot 
of  white  at  the  base  of  the  bill  of  the  male,  contrasting 
with  the  dark,  glossy  green  of  the  head,  and  the  white 
neck,  the  body  being  black  above  and  behind,  readily  differen- 
tiate the  species.  The  female,  having  a  dark-brown  head 
without  the  spot  at  the  base  of  the  bill,  and  having  a  light- 
gray  neck  and  darker  gray  or  dusky  pectoral  band,  is 
known  by  her  relation  to  the  male,  and  is  much  smaller 
than  her  more  striking  consort.  The  body  is  short,  the 
bill  short  and  stubbed,  almost  as  nearly  like  a  lamb's 
nose  as  a  Duck's  bill,  and  the  head  is  rather  thick.  The 
golden-yellow  iris  is  a  striking  mark  of  the  bird,  and  the 
orange  feet  with  dusky  webs  soon  become  familiar  to  the 
eye.  The  food  of  this  species  is  such  as  not  to  render  it  a 
favorite  on  the  table,  though  it  is  generally  eaten.  Dimin- 
ishing in  numbers  already  in  the  middle  of  April,  a  few 
linger  in  New  York  as  late  as  the  20th  of  May;  and  except 
in  the  case  of  stray  birds,  the  breeding  place  is  far  to  the 
north.  Mr.  Fortiscue  reports  it  as  breeding  in  trees  along 
Nelson  River,  and  it  is  said  to  breed  in  a  similar  manner 
in  Newfoundland  and  in  Northern  New  England.  The  6-10 
eggs,  spherical  and  ashy-green,  are  some  2. 38  x  1.78.  The 
annual  range  of  the  common  Golden-eye  (Bucephala  clan- 
guld)  is  throughout  North  America  and  Europe. 

Barrow's  Golden-eye   (B.  islandica)   is  now  well  differen- 
tiated as  a  closely-allied  species.     For  this  conclusion  much 


464  THE  LONG-TAILED  DUCK. 

credit  is  due  Dr.  Gilpin,  of  Halifax,  N.  S.,  whose  patient 
investigation  was  so  satisfactory  in  its  results.  The  data  of 
determination  are:  1st,  difference  in  size;  the  common 
Golden-eye  (the  male)  being  some  19  or  20  inches  in  length, 
while  Barrow's  Golden-eye  is  several  inches  longer;  2d, 
marked  difference  in  the  shape  of  the  bill  and  head;  that  of 
islandica  being  noticeably  high  at  the  base,  short  and 
pointed;  3d,  in  marking;  the  white  spot  at  the  base  of  the 
bill  in  clangula  being  oval,  while  it  is  triangular  or  crescent- 
shaped  in  islandica,  with  a  difference  also  in  the  wing  mark- 
ings; 4th,  and,  particularly,  in  the  shape  of  the  trachea;  the 
peculiar  and  irregular  enlargement  so  marked  in  clangula, 
being  much  moderated  in  islandica.  (See  "the  Golden-eyes 
or  Garrot's  in  Nova  Scotia,"  by  Dr.  J.  Bernard  Gilpin.) 

Islandica  was  first  found  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  but  has 
since  occurred  frequently  on  the  Atlantic  Coast  in  winter, 
even  as  far  south  as  New  York. 

THE    LONG-TAILED    DUCK. 

Most  common,  from  fall  till  spring,  on  the  Niagara  River, 
is  the  sight  and  sound  of  the  Long-tailed  Duck  (Harelda  gla- 
cialis]  alias,  Old  Wife,  South-southerly  Coween,  or  Ha-ha-we, 
as  the  Indians  at  Hudson's  Bay  call  it.  Though  almost  use- 
less for  the  table,  on  account  of  its  molluscous  and  fishy 
diet,  its  beauty  and  individual  peculiarities  always  render 
it  an  object  of  interest  to  the  sportsman.  Its  body,  so  short 
and  thick  that  it  is  almost  round,  bill  unusually  short  and 
small,  neck  thick,  and  central  feathers  of  the  tail  long,  the 
form  is  well  characterized;  the  black  bill  banded  with 
orange  near  the  tip;  the  iris  of  bright  carmine;  the  head 
and  neck  well  down  upon  the  back,  white;  cheeks  and  fore- 
head of  light  drab  running  into  a  large  black  patch  on  the 
sides  of  the  neck,  which  patch  shades  again  into  brown; 


THE  LONG-TAILED  DUCK.  465 

breast  and  upper  parts,  except  the  dark  chestnut  secon- 
daries and  bluish-white  scapulars  and  tertiaries,  elegantly 
elongated,  black;  pointed  tail  feathers,  except  the  four  elon- 
gated central  ones,  and  under  parts,  white;  sides,  light  drab; 
feet  and  legs,  dark  slate — all  these  striking  contrasts  in 
color  render  the  male,  in  winter  plumage,  conspicuous  and 
beautiful.  In  summer  the  head  and  neck  become  dark, 
and  the  scapulars  and  tertials  black,  edged  with  chestnut. 
Late  in  April  or  early  in  May,  some  may  be  found  scarcely 
changed  from  the  winter  habit,  and  others  may  be  almost 
conformed  to  the  summer  dress. 

The  female,  with  shortened  tail  feathers,  being  but  16.00 
long,  is  grayish-brown,  many  of  the  feathers  being  edged 
with  whitish;  spot  around  the  eye,  sides  of  the  neck  and 
breast,  grayish-white,  the  latter  becoming  clear  white  on 
the  belly.  In  winter  the  head  and  neck  of  the  female  may 
be  nearly  white.  This  species  spends  the  winter  as  far  north 
as  ice  and  snow  will  permit,  and  is  our  only  Duck  which,  like 
certain  other  birds  and  certain  animals  of  the  north,  whitens 
with  the  winter  and  becomes  dark  again  in  summer;  hence 
the  propriety  of  its  name  glacialis,  or  hiemalis,  meaning 
Winter  or  Ice  Duck;  and  the  name  commends  itself  to  us 
especially,  as  we  see  it  swimming  and  diving,  as  if  perfectly 
at  home,  in  the  midst  of  floating  ice  and  driving  snow- 
storms. 

Its  feet  placed  far  behind,  an  accommodation  in  diving,  it 
keeps  to  the  deep  channels  of  the  river,  drifting  down  the 
rapid  current  as  it  dives  deep  down  incessantly  for  its  food, 
and  then  flies  up  the  river  to  test  the  ground  over  again. 
The  third  day  of  last  April  (1882)  was  one  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. Perfectly  calm,  and  with  a  cloudless  sunshine,  the 
air  was  so  warm  as  to  cause  a  white  vapor  over  the  whole 
surface  of  the  river,  rendering  the  scenery  just  above  Niag- 
30 


466  THE  LONG-TAILED  DUCK. 

ara  Falls  particularly  soft  and  beautiful.  Above  the  monot- 
onous roar  of  the  cataract,  and  loud  and  clear  in  every  di- 
rection, could  be  heard  the  peculiar  notes  of  the  Old  Wives; 
and  as  they  were  very  numerous,  the  rather  musical  clamor 
was  quite  impressive.  Now  a  flock  would  appear  at  one 
point,  whitening  the  river  and  making  the  air  resonant  for 
many  rods  around  them;  and  then,  as  they  disappeared  be- 
neath the  smooth,  silvery  current,  another  flock,  emerging 
in  the  vicinity,  would  attract  equal  attention.  At  any  time 
many  flocks  might  be  within  range  of  the  eye.  Nothing  in 
the  way  of  sound  could  be  more  strongly  characterized  than 
the  vocal  performance  of  this  bird.  To  my  ear  it  does  not 
recall  the  common  name  "  South-southerly,"  given  it  on 
the  Atlantic  Coast,  but  is  well  expressed  by  an  epithet  given 
it  by  the  Germans  about  Niagara  River,  who  call  it  the 
*'  Ow-owly."  Ow-ow-ly,  ow-ow-ly,  ow-ow-ly,  frequently  re- 
peated in  successsion,  the  first  two  notes  considerably 
mouthed,  and  the  last  syllable  in  a  high,  shrill,  clarion  tone, 
may  suggest  the  queer  notes  to  any  one  whose  ear  is  fa- 
miliar with  them.  Not  infrequently  the  last  syllable  is  left 
out  of  the  ditty,  the  bird  seeming  somewhat  in  a  hurry,  or 
the  note  becomes  a  mere  nasal  ah,  a/i,  ah,  rapidly  uttered. 
The  great  enlargement  in  the  wind-pipe  of  the  male  has 
been  supposed  to  account  for  these  loud  tones;  but  the 
female,  which  is  regarded  as  much  the  noisier,  is  without 
that  peculiarity.  Always  accounted  a  sea  Duck,  and  not  re- 
ported by  Coues  from  the  northwest,  it  would  appear  rather 
strange  that  it  should  be  so  common  on  the  Great  Lakes, 
unless  we  regard  this  region  as  the  winter  habitat  of  those 
spending  the  summer  about  Hudson's  Bay.  It  will  not  al- 
ways decoy  for  the  sportsman,  but  with  a  little  caution  he 
may  row  or  drift  upon  it  near  enough  for  a  shot,  and  as  it 
flies  but  a  short  distance  when  alarmed,  and  then  drops 


THE  RED-HEADED  DUCK.  467 

into  the  water  again,  he  may  continue  to  steal  upon  the 
flock  till  he  has  satisfied  his  disposition  for  slaughter.  Mr. 
James  Fortiscue,  my  very  interesting  correspondent  at 
York  Factory,  Hudson's  Bay,  says  that  in  that  locality  these 
birds  breed  "  on  islands  in  lakes." 

The  nest  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Scoters;  the  eggs,  about 
2.12X1.56,  being  "pale,  yellowish-green." 

Wintering  with  us  as  far  south  as  New  Jersey,  this  species 
ranges  throughout  the  northern  hemisphere. 

THE    RED-HEADED    DUCK. 

On  the  30th  of  March  (1882),  while  Niagara  River  was 
lashed  into  a  tempest  by  a  raw  west  wind,  I  saw  from  the 
north  side  of  Buckhorn  Island  a  flock  of  hundreds  of  Red- 
heads (Fuligula  ferind]  riding  down  the  middle  of  the  cur- 
rent in  the  most  perfect  repose.  Nearly  every  one  had  the 
head  resting  on  the  back,  the  bill  under  the  scapulars. 
Only  occasionally  was  there  one  which  seemed  to  act  as  sen- 
tinel. Several  Widgeons  also,  whose  white  crowns  rendered 
them  quite  conspicuous,  were  in  the  flock.  There  was 
something  very  impressive  in  this  long  line,  many  abreast, 
of  living  creatures,  rocked  and  tossed  on  the  foaming 
breakers,  and  yet  reposing  as  sweetly  as  if  on  some  quiet 
inland  lake.  Long  did  I  scan  them,  and  much  did  I  admire 
them,  as  the  field-glass  brought  them  just  before  me. 

A  more  complete  study  of  these  interesting  Ducks  was 
reserved  for  me,  however,  on  St.  Clair  Flats.  Here  they 
are  very  abundant  in  the  migrations,  and  not  a  few  remain 
to  breed.  In  the  bright,  hot  days  of  June,  small  flocks  may 
be  seen  diving  leisurely  for  food,  along  the  deeper  and  more 
rapid  channels,  thus  procuring  their  fare  of  small  mollusks 
and  fishes,  the  larvae  of  aquatic  insects,  and  the  roots  and 
leaves  of  certain  aquatic  plants.  Not  infrequently  the 


468  THE  RED-HEADED  DUCK. 

males  are  quite  noisy,  loudly  uttering  their  deep-toned 
me-ow,  which  is  the  precise  imitation  of  the  voice  of  a  large 
cat.  The  female,  especially,  if  rising  from  her  nest  or  out 
of  the  water,  has  a  loud,  clear  squak,  on  a  higher  tone  than 
that  of  the  Mallard  or  Dusky  Duck,  and  so  peculiar  as  to 
be  readily  identified  by  the  ear,  even  if  the  bird  is  not  in 
sight.  The  gray  aspect  of  the  wings  in  flight  is  also  very 
characteristic  of  this  species.  The  nest  is  generally  built 
in  the  thick  sedges  over  the  water,  and  consists  of  the 
leaves  of  the  cat-tail  and  of  various  kinds  of  marsh-grass, 
a  slight  lining  of  down  being  added  as  incubation  pro- 
ceeds. The  eggs,  generally  about  9  or  10,  but  sometimes 
as  many  as  15,  some  2.45  X  1.75,  are  nearly  oval  or 
oblong-oval,  having  a  very  smooth,  firm  shell,  and  being 
of  a  rich  light-brown  tinge,  sometimes  slightly  clouded; 
scarcely  if  ever  tinged  with  blue  or  green.  When  moist- 
ened a  little  and  rubbed  with  a  dry  cloth,  they  are  sus- 
ceptible of  a  high  polish.  The  young,  in  the  down,  has 
the  crown  of  the  head  and  the  upper  parts,  generally,  of 
a  clear,  olivaceous  green,  the  cheeks  and  under  parts,  bright 
yellow.  The  eggs  are  fresh,  or  nearly  so,  the  first  week 
in  June. 

A  stately  and  beautiful  bird  indeed  is  the  male,  as,  with 
head  well  up,  he  rides  upon  the  water.  A  little  over  20 
inches  in  length,  the  bill,  which  is  about  as  long  as  the  head 
and  rather  broad,  is  blue,  shading  into  dusky  or  black  at 
the  tip;  the  male  has  the  head  and  more  than  half  of  the 
neck  brownish-red,  with  a  violaceous  gloss  above  and  behind; 
the  lower  part  of  the  neck,  the  breast,  upper  and  lower 
parts  of  the  back,  black;  beneath,  white  sprinkled  with 
gray  or  dusky;  sides,  scapulars  and  space  between,  white 
and  black  in  fine  wavy  lines  of  equal  width,  giving  a  gray 
effect  in  the  distance;  wing-coverts  gray,  specked  with 


THE   CANVAS-BACK  DUCK.  459 

whitish;  speculum,  grayish-blue;  iris,  orange.  Female  sim- 
ilar, with  the  head  and  neck  grayish-brown,  and  the  breast 
more  or  less  mixed  with  gray  or  whitish. 

Resembling  the  Canvas-back,  it  is  quite  distinguishable 
by  its  shorter,  broader  bill,depression  at  the  base  of  the  bill, 
absence  of  black  on  the  head  and  back  of  the  neck,  and 
broader  lines  of  black  in  the  penciling  of  the  back.  Abun- 
dant on  the  sea-coast  of  the  middle  districts,  but  becoming 
less  common  northward  and  southward,  it  breeds  in  the  in- 
terior northward,  moving  southward  in  October,  and  return- 
ing north  late  in  March  or  early  in  April. 

THE  CANVAS-BACK   DUCK. 

Perhaps  the  most  celebrated  of  all  American  water-fowl, 
to  the  sportsman  and  to  the  epicure,  is  the  Canvas-back  Duck 
(Fuligula  vallisnerid).  Lacking  the  brilliancy  of  the  Wood 
Duck,  and  the  striking  contrasts  in  color  of  certain  others 
of  our  fresh  water  Ducks,  nor  possessing  the  diving  accom- 
plishments and  the  wealth  in  down  of  the  Eider,  its  great 
desideratum  and  interest  consists  wholly  in  its  flesh,  sup- 
posed by  many  to  possess  a  peculiar  juiciness  and  delicious 
flavor,  especially  after  having  fed  for  a  time  on  its  favorite 
v&llisntria,  a  fresh  water  plant,  very  abundant  in  the  waters  of 
the  Chesapeake  and  its  tributaries,  and  also  in  the  Susque- 
hanna.  Some  think,  however,  that  "  the  fine  flavor  which 
the  flesh  of  these  Ducks  is  said  to  possess  is  probably  due 
partly  to  the  imagination  of  those  who  pay  high  prices  for 
the  privilege  of  eating  it,"  its  flesh  being  even  "  dry  and 
fishy  "  when  it  has  been  deprived  for  a  time  of  its  favorite 
food,  and  obliged  to  resort  to  the  more  common  bill  of  fare 
for  most  other  Ducks — small  mollusks  and  fishes,  with  an 
occasional  tadpole  or  leech. 

About    2    feet    long    and   3   in   extent,    the  high   crown 


470  THE    CANVAS-BACK  DUCK. 

slopes  gradually  with  a  slight  curve  upward  to  the  tip  of 
the  rather  long  and  narrow  bill,  thus  strongly  characteriz- 
ing the  head  as  compared  with  that  of  other  Ducks.  The 
bill  is  greenish-black;  at  the  base  of  the  bill,  on  the  crown, 
and  down  over  the  back  of  the  rich  brownish-red  head  and 
neck,  is  a  dusky  effect,  deepening  into  fine  black  in  the  zone 
about  the  breast  and  upper  back;  upper  parts  and  sides, 
white,  or  grayish-white,  with  delicate  zigzag  cross-pencil- 
ings  of  black;  secondaries  darker,  but  similar;  underneath, 
white;  posterior,  dark;  feet,  bluish;  iris,  carmine.  The 
female  is  similar,  with  colors  less  bright,  and  markings  less 
distinct. 

Diving  deep  with  utmost  readiness,  swimming  rapidly, 
straightforward  and  swift  in  flight,  and  exceedingly  wary, 
this  species  is  not  easily  captured.  Rare  in  New  England, 
and  not  abundant  in  the  extreme  south,  its  chief  winter 
resort  is  that  famous  rendezvous  of  water-fowl  from  fall 
till  spring — the  Chesapeake  Bay  with  its  many  rivers.  How 
the  Canvas-back  is  shot  here  in  immense  numbers — as  well 
as  hosts  of  other  Ducks — from  points  during  flight,  by 
"tolling  in  "  with  the  aid  of  dogs  running  up  and  down  the 
shore,  and  thus  enticing  the  birds  in  from  curiosity,  from 
batteries  and  by  paddling  stealthily  upon  them  during  the 
night,  many  writers,  among  sportsmen  and  ornithologists, 
have  fully  described.  Very  exciting,  indeed,  it  must  be  to 
lie  concealed  on  shore,  and  see  the  "rafts"  of  Ducks  slowly 
enticed  in,  while  the  little  bright-colored  dog,  aided,  it  may 
be,  by  a  red  or  white  handkerchief  tied  to  his  tail,  runs  up 
and  down  the  bank;  or  to  watch  the  floating  decoys  from 
the  box-like  battery,  sunken  to  the  water's  edge  far  out  from 
shore,  and  then  to  fire  into  the  immense  flocks,  hovering  or 
alighting,  as  they  fly  up  and. down  this  concourse  of  waters! 
The  latter  mode,  however,  would  seem  to  be  too  much  like 


THE  RUDDY  DUCK.  471 

slaughter,  to  be  approved  by  that  gallant  sportsmanship, 
which  always  seeks  to  give  the  bird  "a  chance  for  its  life." 

The  great  thoroughfare  of  the  Canvas-back  in  migration, 
like  that  of  many  of  our  river  Ducks,  is  along  the  interior 
of  our  continent;  and  its  breeding  habitat  is  in  the  great 
northwest,  especially  about  the  cool  waters  in  the  higher 
latitudes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  vicinity. 

Early  in  spring  or  late  in  the  fall,  or  perhaps  even  in  mid- 
winter, it  is  sometimes  taken  on  Niagara  River,  and  for  a 
short  time  in  the  spring  and  fall  migrations  it  is  common 
on  St.  Clair  Flats.  This  is  particularly  an  American  species, 
resembling,  however,  our  Red-head  and  the  European 
Pochard. 

THE    RUDDY    DUCK. 

Common,  and  sometimes  abundant,  on  Niagara  River 
during  the  migrations,  is  the  Ruddy  Duck  (Erismatura 
rubidd].  An  anomaly  of  its  kind  is  this  little  creature. 
Some  15  long  and  21.50  in  extent,  it  has  a  peculiarly  short 
and  almost  round  appearance;  the  long  and  gradual  curve 
of  the  crown,  joined  to  a  bill  rather  short,  broad  and  much 
depressed,  is  a  marked  feature;  the  rather  long  and  broad 
tail,  with  scarcely  any  coverts  above  or  below,  is  decidedly 
out  of  order  for  a  Duck;  the  broad  tip  of  the  wing,  so  ap- 
parent in  flight,  would  seem  more  in  place  for  a  Coot  or  a 
Gallinule;  the  striking  seasonal  change  of  plumage  in  the 
male  would  do  for  a  Gull  or  a  Grebe;  the  large  egg,  with 
granulated  shell,  might  be  mistaken  for  that  of  a  Goose; 
while  its  diving  propensities  would  do  credit  to  a  Dabchick. 

Look  at  that  elegant  male,  as  he  floats  on  the  smooth  sur- 
face of  some  fresh-water  channel  in  the  breeding  season! 
Almost  as  motionless  as  a  wooden  decoy,  he  holds  his  large 
and  full  spread  tail  straight  up,  often  catching  the  wind 
just  in  the  right  direction,  and  thus  using  that  appendage 


472  THE  RUDDY  DUCK. 

for  a  sail.  Jet-black  over  the  crown  and  down  the  back  of 
the  neck,  cheeks  clear  white,  the  remaining  upper  parts  a 
bright,  glossy  dark-red,  he  is  a  well-defined  object  even  in 
the  distance.  The  female — which  the  male  resembles  pre- 
cisely, from  fall  till  spring — is  a  dark  brownish-gray,  the 
throat  and  broad  stripe  through  the  eye  lighter,  both  sexes 
being  white,  or  white  mottled  with  gray,  underneath.  The 
young  are  a  little  lighter  than  the  female.  Except  in  its 
sojourn  in  the  south  in  winter,  where  it  may  be  seen  in  im- 
mense flocks,  especially  in  Florida,  it  is  generally  in  small 
flocks  after  the  manner  of  the  Buffi e-head.  When  rising 
from  the  water,  it  runs  on  the  surface  for  some  distance, 
and  generally  against  the  wind.  If  it  cannot  command  a 
fair  open  space  for  flight,  it  will  dive,  using  its  tail  either  as 
a  rudder  or  as  a  paddle  in  a  vertical  motion,  and  will  hide 
itself  away  among  the  grass  and  sedges.  When  on  the  wing 
it  flies  low  along  the  surface  of  the  water,  with  a  rapid  beat  of 
its  broad  wings,  making  a  short,  plump  figure  quite  uncom- 
mon for  a  Duck;  and  it  generally  flies  quite  a  distance 
before  alighting. 

Though  not  averse  to  the  molluscous  and  piscatorial  diet 
of  the  sea  Duck,  and  often  found  on  bays  and  marshes  of 
the  sea  shore,  its  principal  range  is  in  the  interior;  and  it 
prefers,  as  a  diet,  the  leaves  and  roots  of  certain  aquatic 
vegetation,  for  which  it  dives  after  the  manner  of  the  Fuli- 
gulin<z. 

Not  a  few  of  this  species  remain  on  St.  Clair  Flats  through- 
out the  breeding  season.  The  nest,  built  some  time  in  June, 
is  placed  in  the  sedges  or  marsh-grass  over  the  water;  and 
may  contain  as  many  as  ten  eggs,  remarkably  large  for  the 
size  of  the  bird  (2.50x1.^5),  oval  or  slightly  ovate,  the 
finely  granulated  shell  being  almost  pure  white,  tinged  with 
the  slightest  shade  of  grayish-blue.  The  nest  may  be  quite 


THE  RUDDY  DUCK.  473 

well  built  of  fine  colored  grasses,  circularly  laid,  or  simply 
a  mere  matting  together  of  the  tops  of  the  green  marsh- 
grass,  with  a  slight  addition  of  some  dry  flexible  material.  I 
found  one  nest  on  a  hollow  side  of  a  floating  log.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  few  dried  grasses  and  rushes  laid  in  a  loose  cir- 
cle. Indeed,  the  bird  inclines  to  build  a  very  slight  nest. 

As  well  try  to  catch  a  weasel  asleep  as  to  see  this  bird 
leave  the  nest.  Mr.  W.  H.  Collins,  however,  a  well-known 
taxidermist,  of  Detroit,  Mich.,  to  whom  the  credit  is  due 
of  first  discovering  the  nidification  of  this  species  in  our 
neighborhood,  after  carefully  identifying  the  absent  bird 
by  the  feathers  in  a  well  incubated  nest,  afterwards  saw 
her  leave  it.  She  scrambled  off  like  a  mud-turtle  from  a  log, 
and  diving  from  the  edge  of  the  nest,  which,  as  usual  was 
over  the  water,  swam  in  clear  sight  under  the  bow  of  his 
boat.  From  personal  investigation  I  have  satisfied  myself 
of  the  accuracy  of  his  painstaking  observation.  The  Ruddy 
Duck  is  nearly  noiseless,  occasionally  uttering  a  weak 
squak.  Its  habitat  is  North  America  at  large. 

The  Gad  wall  or  Gray  Duck  (Chaulelasmus  streperus),  a 
species  of  almost  world-wide  distribution,  is  about  the 
rarest  river  Duck  on  the  Niagara.  Indeed  it  is  particu- 
larly a  species  of  the  western  interior,  being  abundant 
in  Missouri,  and  in  the  regions  of  the  Mississippi  generally. 
As  with  most  others  of  our  river  or  non-diving  Ducks, 
Audubon  satisfied  himself  as  to  its  breeding  in  Texas,  and 
there  is  pretty  conclusive  evidence  that  its  summer  habitat 
does  not  extend  to  the  extreme  north.  Probably  the  re- 
gions of  the  upper  Mississippi  and  Missouri  are  its  principal 
breeding  grounds.  Its  nest  is  made  on  the  ground,  in  marshy 
places,  and  is  composed  of  sticks,  weeds  and  grasses;  the  6-10 
smooth,  elliptical,  cream-colored  eggs  measuring  about 
2.00X1.50. 


474  THE   SHOVELLER. 

Some  20.00  long  and  30.00  in  extent,  most  of  the  plumage 
is  finely  barred  with  black  and  white,  giving  a  general 
gray  effect;  middle  wing  coverts,  chestnut ;  greater  ones, 
black;  speculum,  white.  The  species  may  always  be  differ- 
entiated by  the  wing. 

THE   SHOVELLER. 

A  highly  specialized  form,  in  nature,  is  a  Duck's  bill;  and 
so  completely  do  form  and  function  correspond  therein,  that 
it  may  be  impossible  to  conceive  of  adaptation  more  per- 
fect. The  head,  or  the  entire  body,  being  immersed  in  the 
act  of  feeding,  and  that  often  to  a  great  depth,  or  in  turbid 
water,  the  food,  which  itself  is  often  found  in  the  mud, 
must  be  selected  in  great  part,  at  least,  without  the  aid  of 
sight;  the  sensibilities  of  touch  and  taste,  therefore,  are 
particularly  requisite.  To  render  these  faculties  of  percep- 
tion as  acute  as  possible,  the  soft,  fleshy  tongue,  the  carne- 
ous  interior  of  the  mouth  in  general,  and  the  soft,  sensitive 
exterior  of  the  bill  are  well  supplied  with  a  complicated 
system  of  nerves,  thus  enabling  the  bird  to  detect  its  food 
by  the  sense  of  feeling,  and  probably  even  by  the  sense  of 
taste.  The  broad  bill,  with  its,  finely  lamellate  edges,  serves 
as  a  sort  of  sieve  or  strainer,  to  retain  the  proper  articles  of 
diet,  while  the  foreign  or  extraneous  matter  is  allowed  to 
escape  ;  the  Duck  thus  feeding  somewhat  after  the  manner 
of  the  Baleen  or  Right  Whale.  Though  constructed  on  the 
same  general  plan,  the  bills  of  the  various  species  of  Ducks 
include  a  great  variety  of  patterns.  Some,  as  those  of  the 
Old  Wives  and  the  Pintails,  are  quite  small,  whereas, 
in  many  of  the  river  Ducks,  the  bills  are  large  and  broad. 
The  most  exaggerated,  both  in  size  and  form,  is  that  of  the 
rather  small  river  Duck  called  the  Shoveller  {Spatula  clypeatd). 
Though  but  little  larger  than  a  Teal,  its  bill  is  quite  a  little 


THE   SHOVELLER.  475 

longer  than  that  of  the  Mallard  or  the  Eider,  and  nearly  twice 
as  broad  at  the  tip  as  it  is  at  the  base,  thus  giving  the  spe- 
cies a  very  peculiar  and  almost  awkward  appearance.  The 
tongue,  and  a  prominent  ridge  along  the  deeply  concave  roof 
of  the  mouth,  are  well  provided  with  large  and  rather  pecul- 
iarly formed  papillae,  in  order  to  augment  the  sensitiveness 
of  touch  and  taste.  The  large  lamellae  along  the  edges 
of  the  immense  bill  give  the  bird  a  peculiar  grinning 
aspect. 

The  comparatively  long  measurement  for  the  weight, 
nearly  or  quite  20  inches,  is  due  partly  to  the  slender  body, 
but  more  especially  to  the  long  bill  and  tail.  The  bill  is  dark; 
the  head  and  upper  part  of  the  neck,  blackish,  with  green 
and  purplish  reflections;  the  color  by  no  means  pure,  how- 
ever; the  lower  neck,  upper  breast,  anterior  scapulars,  longi- 
tudinal stripes  in  the  long  posterior  scapulars,  patch  on  each 
side  of  the  rump,  and  band  towards  the  tail,  white  ;  stripe 
down  the  back  of  the  neck,  and  the  back,  gray-brown,  the 
feathers  edged  with  lighter;  rump  and  upper  tail  coverts, 
greenish-black  ;  outer  edge  of  the  long  tertials,  and  the 
smaller  wing-coverts,  ultra-marine-blue;  speculum,  violet- 
green;  the  rest  of  the  wings,  dusky;  tail  feathers,  white, 
with  brown  line  along  the  shaft;  under  parts,  dark  chestnut, 
lighter  and  somewhat  spotted  and  barred  on  the  sides;  iris, 
yellow;  feet,  orange  ; — the  mature  male,  thus  described,  is  a 
conspicuous  and  pleasing  object  on  the  water.  Female, 
brown  above,  each  feather  edged  with  lighter;  the  throat, 
sides  of  the  head,  and  under  parts  generally,  light-brown. 

The  nest  of  this  species  is  on  the  ground  near  the  water, 
and  is  built  of  the  coarse  materials  commonly  used  by 
Ducks.  The  eggs,  some  8  or  10  in  number,  and  about  2.07 
XI. 47,  are  a  dark-cream  or  light-brown,  not  infrequently 
tinged  with  ashy-gray. 


476  THE  BONAPARTE   GULL, 

This  fresh  water,  or  river  Duck,  occurring  sparingly  in  the 
east,  is  abundant  in  the  west,  breeding  from  Texas  to 
Alaska. 

THE    BONAPARTE   .GULL. 

Here  let  me  mention  a  very  conspicuous  and  beautiful 
bird,  which  appears  on  the  river  along  with  the  Ducks  in 
spring  and  also  in  the  fall — the  Bonaparte  Gull  (Chroicoceph- 
alus  Philadelphia).  Some  12-14  inches  long,  with  a  bill  as 
slender  as  that  of  a  Tern,  the  mantle  is  an  elegant  pearly  or 
silvery-gray;  head  dusky-slate,  appearing  black  in  the  dis- 
tance; the  eye-lids  marked  with  white;  bill,  black;  neck,  under 
parts,  tail  and  front  of  the  wing,  white;  the  wing  having 
the  outer  web  of  the  first  primary,  also  the  edge  of  the 
second  or  even  the  third,  and  the  ends  of  the  primaries  gen- 
erally, except  the  extreme  white  tips,  black;  feet,  orange. 
In  winter  there  is  no  hood,  but  a  gray  spot  on  the  side  of 
the  head.  The  young  are  mottled  with  brownish  or  grayish 
above,  having  a  dark  bar  on  the  wing,  and  a  black  band  on 
the  tail. 

Appearing  about  the  middle  of  April,  this  species  some- 
times becomes  very  abundant  for  a  month  or  more,  flying 
leisurely  up  and  down  the  river  in  larger  or  smaller  flocks, 
and  subsisting  on  small  fish  which  they  take  by  dropping 
lightly  on  the  surface.  The  flight  is  easy  and  graceful,  each 
stroke  of  the  long,  pointed  wings  throwing  the  body  up  a 
little,  while  the  bird  peers  this  way  and  that  way  in  quest  of 
its  small  prey.  If  it  fly  towards  one,  the  white  front  of 
its  wings,  added  to  its  white  breast  and  neck,  gives  it  the 
appearance  of  a  white  bird  with  a  black  head.  It  often  has 
a  noticeable  way  of  turning  partly  around  or  cutting  back- 
ward, as  it  drops  down  in  securing  some  object  suddenly  de- 
tected on  or  near  the  surface,  thus  making  it  appear  decid- 
edly lithe  and  agile  on  the  wing.  Occasionally  it  may  alight 


THE  BONAPARTE   GULL.  477 

on  objects  along  the  shore,  and  often  rides  down  the  cur- 
rent on  floating  bits  of  board,  sometimes  ten  or  a  dozen 
standing  closely  side  by  side  in  a  row.  Then  they  utter  an 
occasional  soft  conversational  note,  as  if  quietly  enjoying 
each  other's  company,  and  affording  a  most  beautiful  and 
instructive  picture  of  happy  contentedness.  Not  infre- 
quently they  swim,  or  rather  float,  literally  on  the  water, 
their  light  forms  scarcely  pressing  below  the  surface.  The 
harmony  and  effect  of  their  chaste  colors,  in  such  pleasing 
contrast,  when  compared  with  the  bright  green  tints  of  our 
beautiful  river,  are  strikingly  elegant;  and  never  is  the  Ni- 
agara so  charming  as  when  ornamented  with  clouds  of 
these  gentle,  graceful,  little  creatures.  The  immature  birds, 
some  of  which  spend  the  summer  on  St.  Clair  Flats,  linger 
here  some  time  after  those  in  mature  plumage  have  gone 
northward.  Some  light  has  lately  been  thrown  on  the  nid- 
ification  of  this  species,  a  matter  on  which  the  books  have 
heretofore  been  almost  silent;  notwithstanding  the  common- 
ness of  the  bird  on  the  sea-coast  and  in  the  interior  during 
the  migrations.  The  annual  report  of  the  Canadian  gov- 
ernment for  the  Department  of  the  Interior,  issued  1880, 
gives  Gull  Lake,  north  of  Cypress  Hill  and  Bullrush  Lake, 
as  localities  where  this  Gull  breeds  commonly;  and  Mr. 
Fortiscue  reports  it  as  breeding  on  Hudson's  Bay. 

It  was  the  18th  of  October  last  (1883),  that  the  fall  flight 
of  Ducks  fairly  set  in  on  the  Niagara.  The  ripe  brilliancy  of 
our  autumn  scenery  had  just  reached  its  climax.  The 
groves  on  Grand  Island  were  like  bright  bouquets  of  many 
colors.  The  top  of  the  large  soft  maple,  under  which  I  had 
placed  my  tent  on  Buckhorn  Island,  seemed  like  a  crimson 
flame;  and  it  was  surrounded  by  every  shade  of  scarlet, 
orange,  amber,  and  gold,  and  even  the  rich  green  of  sum- 


478  THE  SURF  DUCK. 

mer.  The  river  was  in  its  most  placid  mood,  its  waters  of 
half  a  continent  moving  on  with  a  quiet  force,  that  did  not 
stir  the  smallest  ripple  on  its  surface.  The  sky  was  veiled 
in  a  soft  hazy  curtain  of  gray,  and  the  air  was  motionless. 
The  river,  like  a  great  mirror,  doubling  the  gorgeous  land- 
scape, reflected  immense  flocks  of  Ducks,  flying  high,  now 
in  long  lines  and  varying  angles,  and  now  in  graceful  curves. 
Only  occasionally  did  a  flock  drop  down  within  shot-range; 
then,  as  they  rushed  by  our  boat  in  the  sedges,  their  many 
wings  sounding  like  a  storm-sough  in  the  trees,  they  almost 
invariably  proved  to  be  Red-heads. 

THE    SURF   DUCK. 

But  the  Ducks  were  not  all  in  the  air.  Here  and  there 
on  the  glassy  surface  small  flocks  would  appear  as  if  by 
apparition.  Among  these  were  many  of  the  Ruddy  Ducks, 
whose  passage  would  seem  to  be  about  as  much  by  water 
as  through  the  air.  This  coming  up  out  of  the  depths  at 
any  point  adds  a  great  mystery  to  the  coy  life  of  certain 
species.  Every  sense  is  on  the  alert,  for  you  do  not  know  at 
what  moment  some  strange  thing  may  "turn  up."  So  it 
was  on  this  morning  of  the  18th.  There  appeared  sud- 
denly, almost  under  the  bow  of  my  boat,  three  dark-colored 
Ducks,  of  a  form  wholly  new;  the  most  striking  feature 
being  the  large  head,  and  long  bill  thick  at  the  base.  They 
were  young  birds,  and  so  tame,  that  it  seemed  as  if  I  might 
row  my  boat  up  to  them  and  take  them  in  my  hand.  They 
proved  to  be  the  Surf  Duck  (GELdemia perspicillata),  which  are 
not  uncommon  on  these  waters  in  the  autumn;  occasionally, 
indeed,  being  found  here  even  in  spring.  It  also  occurs 
quite  commonly  as  a  transient  autumn  migrant  on  the 
beautiful  lakes  of  Central  New  York.  It  is,  however,  par- 
ticularly an  ocean  Duck,  feeding  on  small  mollusks  and 


THE   SCOTER.  479 

fishes,  for  which  it  "dives  almost  constantly,  both  in  the 
sandy  bays  and  amidst  the  tumbling  surf,"  sometimes  "  fish- 
ing at  the  depth  of  several  fathoms,"  and  "  floating  buoy- 
antly among  the  surf  of  the  raging  billows,  where  it  seems 
as  unconcerned  as  if  it  were  on  the  most  tranquil  waters." 
In  winter  its  dark  figure  is  common  along  the  whole  Atlan- 
tic Coast,  it  being  often  abundant  about  Long  Island  and 
southward.  Taking  up  its  northern  migration  early  in 
spring,  it  breeds  from  Labrador  northward,  and  also  on 
Hudson's  Bay;  in  the  latter  locality,  according  to  Mr.  Jas. 
Fortiscue,  "on  islands  out  to  sea,  hatching  on  bare  rocks 
close  to  water." 

Some  20  inches  long  and  over  30  in  extent,  the  male 
black,  brownish  below;  the  upper  part  of  the  upper  mandi- 
ble, including  the  gnarl,  bright  orange;  iris,  brown;  feet, 
brownish.  The  female,  several  inches  shorter  than  the  male, 
with  scarcely  anything  of  the  gnarl  at  the  base  of  the  bill, 
which  is-  all  black,  is  light  sooty-brown  above,  and  brownish- 
gray,  with  dusky  specks,  below.  The  nest  is  placed  in  a 
tussock  of  grass,  in  some  marsh  a  few  miles  from  the  sea, 
and  is  made  of  dried  weeds  and  grasses,  the  eggs  being 
some  2.30X1.60,  and  creamy-white. 

THE    SCOTER. 

On  the  same  day  other  flocks  of  strange,  dark-colored 
Ducks  appeared.  I  saw  them  in  the  water  more  frequently 
than  in  the  air,  and  they  were  very  expert  divers.  Some- 
times the  smaller  flocks  seemed  almost  to  alternate  with 
the  immense  flocks  of  Red-heads,  at  other  times  they  were 
mixed  in  with  them,  so  that  a  shot  into  a  flock  would  bring 
down  both  kinds.  The  strange  kind  proved  to  be  the  young 
of  the  American  Scoter  (CEdemia  americana);  no  mature 
birds  at  any  time  being  detected  among  them,  I  think, 


480  THE    VELVET  DUCK. 

though  they  do  occasionally  occur  here  in  the  spring. 
Some  20  inches  long,  and  about  32  in  extent,  thus  only  of 
a  medium  size,  the  male  is  black  throughout;  eyes,  brown; 
feet,  greenish;  top  of  the  bill,  orange,  the  mark  being 
broadest  by  the  gnarl  at  the  base  of  the  bill.  Female  and 
young,  brown,  the  sides  of  the  head  and  the  under  parts 
lighter,  obscurely  spotted  with  dusky. 

This  is  another  of  the  winter  Ducks,  sometimes  appear- 
ing in  great  numbers  along  the  whole  Atlantic,  perfectly  at 
home  in  the  stormy  surf  of  the  winter  winds,  feeding  mostly 
on  small  bivalves,  for  which  it  dives  incessantly  and  with 
the  greatest  address.  It  flies  low  over  the  water,  but  moves 
with  great  momentum;  and  is  so  attached  to  the  sea,  that  its 
appearance  on  fresh  waters  would  seem  to  be  but  casual, 
during  its  transits  of  migration,  or  while  the  most  tempest- 
uous storms  are  raging  along  the  coast.  The  note  of  the 
Scoter  in  spring  is  like  whe-oo-hoo,  long  drawn  out. 

Nesting  similarly  to  the  Eider  Duck,  it  breeds  from 
Labrador  northward;  the  eggs,  2.00x1.60,  being  yellowish- 
white. 

THE    VELVET    DUCK. 

During  all  last  fall's  shooting  of  Ducks  on  the  Niagara,  a 
fine  pair  of  mature  Velvet  Ducks  (CEdemta  fusca)  remained  in 
perfect  safety,  though  fired  at  more  or  less  continuously. 
They  never  dived  to  escape  the  shot,  but  had  the  happy 
faculty  of  rising  out  of  the  water  just  before  one  came  within 
ordinary  range  for  a  shot.  They  seemed  so  perfectly  self- 
assured  and  at  home,  that  up  to  that  point  of  approach,  one 
might  study  them  with  all  impunity.  How  buoyantly  they 
swam,  and  how  large  and  lusty  they  looked  as  they  flew  low 
over  the  water.  The  male,  nearly  2  feet  long  and  nearly  3  in 
extent,  of  brownish  velvety  black  with  white  secondaries,  caus- 
ing a  clear  white  bar  across  the  wing  when  closed,  and  a  long 


THE  EIDER  DUCK.  481 

white  spot  under  the  eye,  was  indeed  one  of  the  larger  and 
more  robust  Ducks  on  the  river.  In  the  mature  male,  the 
red  or  bright  orange  bill  has  the  base  and  the  sides  black; 
the  iris  is  yellow,  and  the  feet  are  dark  red.  The  female 
and  the  young  of  the  year,  are  dark  brown  or  dusky,  with 
two  spots  of  whitish  on  the  cheek,  white  bar  on  the  wing, 
grayish  under  parts  mottled  with  dusky,  and  black  bill.  In 
the  latter  part  of  September,  I  have  seen  these  Ducks  in 
large  flocks  on  Lake  Ontario.  Their  large  black  form,  with 
snow-white  patch  at  the  base  of  the  wing,  cannot  be  mis- 
taken in  flight.  The  Velvet  Duck  (CEdemia  fused)  breeds 
from  Labrador  northward. 

The  three  species  last  described  constitute  a  group  of 
Black  Sea-Ducks,  known  on  the  Atlantic  Coast  in  winter  as 
Coots.  A  curiously  formed  or  fancy  bill,  swollen  at  the 
base,  broad  and  variously  modified  at  the  tip,  and  bright 
parti-colored,  is  a  marked  characteristic;  the  plumage  is 
soft  and  velvety;  the  legs  are  placed  far  back  in  accom- 
modation to  their  expert  diving  habits;  and  though  emi- 
nently Ducks  of  the  ocean,  diving  for  mollusks  or  fishes, 
and  seeking  bays  and  estuaries  only  in  the  severest  storms, 
breeding  from  Labrador  northward,  they  locate  on  fresh 
waters  a  short  distance  from  the  sea.  Like  that  of  most 
ocean  Ducks,  their  flesh  is  not  very  palatable;  and  like  our 
more  northern  birds  in  general,  they  are  common  to  both 
the  Old  World  and  the  New. 

THE    EIDER    DUCK. 

Our  large  rivers,  bearing  more  or  less  north  and  south, 
are  all  great  highways  of  migration.  So  inviting  an 
avenue  to  the  south  is  the  great  St.  Lawrence,  that  in 
the  autumn,  even  the  Eiders  may  be  tempted  to  take  that 
route  into  the  interior.  The  young  of  both  the  Common 
81 


482  THE  EIDER  DUCK. 

and  the  King  Eider  are  occasionally  found  here  on  the 
Niagara,  and  a  mature  male  of  the  latter  was  once  taken 
here  in  April. 

Let  no  one  think  that  the  brilliant  birds  are  confined 
to  the  south.  On  our  northern  oceans  rides  the  King  of 
Ducks,  and  also  his  still  more  stately  cousin,  the  Common 
Eider.  The  lower  parts,  and  the  crown  from  the  base 
of  the  bill,  black;  the  upper  parts,  including  a  line  into 
the  crown,  white;  back  of  the  head  and  neck,  ice-green; 
the  breast  a  most  elegant  rosy-cream,  —  the  male  of 
the  Common  Eider  (Somateria  mollissimd]  is  a  very  ideal 
of  chaste  beauty.  The  darkness  of  the  deep  beneath  him, 
the  snow  of  the  mountain  above  him,  the  ice  beneath  his 
crown,  and  the  rosy  tint  of  the  aurora  borealis  on  his 
breast,  he  is  the  symbol  of  our  most  intensely  startling 
and  beautiful  ideas  of  the  north. 

Extending  their  winter  habitat  along  our  northwestern 
coast  to  New  York,,  the  Eiders  reach  Labrador,  in  their 
northward  migrations,  by  the  first  days  of  May,  two  weeks 
or  more  before  the  ice  is  out  of  that  region.  For  the  next 
three  or  four  weeks  their  low  flight,  in  long  drawn-out  lines, 
is  a  feature  of  that  rough  and  forbidding  landscape.  The 
sexes  are  already  united  in  regularly  chosen  pairs,  the  dark 
colored  females  contrasting  strongly,  as  they  alternate  with 
their  snowy  consorts  in  the  lines  of  flight.  To  the  residents 
of  Labrador,  shut  in  by  the  long,  bleak  winter,  their  appear- 
ance now  is  about  as  pleasant  as  is  that  of  the  Robins  to 
us  in  the  raw  days  of  March.  After  disporting  themselves 
for  several  weeks  in  the  happy  reminiscences  of  their  former 
summer  haunts,  they  begin  nidification  about  the  last  of 
May  or  the  first  of  June.  Breeding  in  communities,  some- 
times in  immense  numbers,  in  this  respect  differing  notice- 
ably from  most  Ducks,  they  appropriate  the  rocky  islands 


THE  EIDER  DUCK.  483 

and  islets  along  the  coast  for  several — sometimes  five  or  six — 
miles  out,  and  along  the  mainland  and  inward  for  a  mile. 
Thus  their  nidification  becomes  a  striking  characteristic  of  this 
great  ornithological  breeding-ground.  The  nests  are  placed 
about  clumps  of  grass,  in  fissures  of  the  rocks,  under  the 
low  spreading  branches  of  the  stunted  firs,  and  along  shelv- 
ings  of  the  shore  not  far  from  the  water's  edge.  Often 
they  are  so  numerous  as  almost  to  crowd  upon  each  other, 
six  or  eight  being  found  under  a  single  bush,  or  arranged 
in  lines  along  the  grassy  clefts  of  rock.  Well  sunken  into 
the  ground,  they  are  made  of  dried  twigs,  sea-weeds,  and 
mosses,  so  well  placed  and  interwoven  as  to  give  the  cavity 
a  neat  and  pretty  appearance.  As  is  the  case  with  Ducks 
generally,  there  is  no  down  in  the  nest  when  the  eggs  are 
first  laid;  but  when  they  are  deposited,  5-7,  or  perhaps  as 
high  as  10,  oval,  smooth-shelled  and  pale  clouded  or  mot- 
tled olive-green,  some  3.00X2.10,  the  female,  now  aban- 
doned by  her  mate,  begins  to  pluck  the  celebrated  down 
from  her  breast,  and  continues  to  do  so  as  incubation  pro- 
ceeds, until  the  roots  of  the  feathers  of  her  under  parts  are 
about  entirely  bare  of  this  commodity.  The  nest,  now  con- 
taining about  a  hat-full  of  loose  down,  which  approximates 
an  ounce  in  weight,  is  elegantly  lined,  and  may  afford  an 
entire  covering  to  the  eggs  in  the  absence  of  the  bird;  and 
thus  their  warmth  may  be  preserved  for  some  time,  while 
the  lone  and  forsaken  female  seeks  recreation  and  food. 
Now  the  dark  reddish-brown  birds,  elegantly  marked  with 
black  and  with  two  narrow  white  cross-bars  on  the  wings, 
may  be  seen  standing  on  the  rocks  leisurely  preening  their 
feathers,  or  floating  on  the  waters  in  the  vicinity.  At  the 
same  time  the  bright  colored  males  may  be  seen  in  large 
flocks,  disporting  themselves  in  entire  freedom  from  care, 
among  the  outer  islands  and  sand-bars.  The  immature 


484  THE  EIDER  DUCK. 

males,  variously  spotted  and  piebald — it  taking  four  years 
for  them  to  reach  mature  colors — are  meanwhile  finding 
seclusion  with  the  sterile  females.  I  recently  found  quite  a 
number  of  these  Ducks  breeding  about  Mud  and  Seal 
Islands,  Yarmouth  County,  Nova  Scotia,  and  am  told  that 
a  few  still  breed  about  Grand  Menan. 

Early  in  July  the  first  young  appear,  and  by  the  20th 
they  are  about  all  hatched.  Heavily  clad  in  a  dark  mouse- 
colored  down,  they  are  the  objects  of  the  closest  vigilance 
and  care  on  the  part  of  the  mother.  If  the  nest  be  far 
from  water,  they  are  at  once  conducted  thither  through 
every  difficulty;  if  it  be  about  rocks  over  the  water,  the 
mother  will  transfer  them  in  her  bill,  after  the  manner 
of  the  Wood  Duck.  For  the  next  three  weeks  or  more, 
the  Eider  is  the  most  faithful  of  mothers,  leading  her 
brood,  in  close  flocks,  about  shallow  waters,  where  they  are 
taught  to  dive  for  their  food.  If  they  become  fatigued, 
she  swims  deeply  among  them,  and  takes  them  all  on  her 
back  till  they  are  rested.  If  a  Jaeger  or  the  large  Black- 
backed  Gull  appear  in  search  of  a  tender  meal,  croaking 
fiercely  and  beating  the  water  with  her  wings,  she  will  raise 
a  lively  spray,  the  young  meanwhile  disappearing  under 
water;  or  she  springs  out  of  the  water,  and  attacks  the  enemy 
"tooth  and  nail  "  so  fiercely,  that  he  is  glad  to  make  good 
his  retreat.  Now  see  her  mount  that  rock,  and  coax  her 
scattered  brood  together  around  her,  as  they  emerge  from 
the  water  here  and  there  along  the  shore  ! 

The  males,  free  from  domestic  cares,  moult  several  weeks 
before  the  females,  and  also  leave  their  summer  habitat 
some  two  weeks  in  advance  of  the  females  and  young,  but 
are  happy  to  mingle  with  them  again  after  all  have  reached 
our  coast  to  spend  the  winter.  Here,  toward  spring,  the 
males  have  a  queer  note,  sounding  like  moo-moo-o-o-o-o;  and 


THE  EIDER  DUCK.  485 

resembling  the  moaning  of  the  seals  in  the  harbors.  The  prin- 
cipal food  of  the  Eider  is  shell-fish,  small  gasteropods  and 
mussels,  for  which  it  will  dive  8  or  10  fathoms,  or  even 
more,  arid  the  shells  of  which  it  can  break  easily.  Though 
its  flesh  is  not  the  most  savory,  it  can  sometimes  be  eaten 
with  relish.  Audubon  cites  a  case  of  its  successful  domes- 
tication. Its  colors,  its  great  size — some  25  inches  in  length 
and  40.50  in  extent,  and  its  broad-based  tapering  bill, 
feathered  well  down  along  the  ridge — fully  differentiate  it. 

In  Norway  and  Greenland,  for  the  Eider  is  also  a  denizen 
of  the  Old  World,  this  species  is  half  domesticated.  The 
natives,  pursuing  a  humane  and  most  commendable  policy, 
do  not  allow  it  to  be  molested.  Hence  it  breeds  in  great 
numbers,  even  about  their  premises,  under  up-turned 
boats,  slabs,  and  about  out-houses,  the  female  allowing  her- 
self to  be  lifted  from  the  nest  while  the  eggs  are  handled. 
After  the  young  have  left  the  nest,  the  down  is  gathered  as 
an  article  of  commerce;  and  thus  it  is  secured  in  the 
greatest  quantity.  Islands  appropriated  as  breeding-places 
thus  become  good,  sometimes  notable,  sources  of  income  to 
the  owners. 

The  King  Duck  (Somateria  spectabilis],  a  near  relative  of 
the  former,  but  of  considerably  smaller  size,  is  more  arctic 
in  its  habitat.  Very  common  about  the  Magdalen  Islands 
in  winter,  and  so  tame  that  it  can  be  killed  with  a  stick, 
it  seldom  migrates  as  far  south  as  New  England.  Probably 
its  tameness  in  winter  is  due  to  its  breeding  so  far  north  as 
to  be  disturbed  but  little  by  man. 

Some  22.50  long  and  41.00  in  extent,  the  male  is  brownish- 
black,  having  the  chin,  neck,  upper  part  of  the  back,  stripe 
lengthwise  on  the  wing,  and  a  spot  on  each  side  of  the  base 
of  the  tail,  white;  an  elegant  gray-drab  hood  over  the 
crown;  cheeks  delicate  ice-green;  border  around  the  bare 


486  THE  HARLEQUIN  DUCK. 

red  patches  on  the  sides  of  the  swelling  at  the  base  of  the 
bill,  and  fork-shaped  spot  on  the  throat,  black;  breast,  dark- 
cream.  The  female  is  reddish-brown,  marked  with  black, 
with  a  little  white  on  the  wings.  The  species  can  always 
be  determined  by  the  downward  curve  of  the  long  scapulars. 
The  Labrador  Duck  (Somateria  labradoria),  an  arctic  spe- 
cies, formerly  found  from  New  Jersey  northward  in  winter, 
is  now  so  rare  as  to  be  regarded  almost  extinct.  Some  20 
inches  long  and  30  in  extent,  it  has  a  long  patch  along  the 
crown  and  down  the  back  of  the  head,  collar  around  the 
lower  neck  continuing  and  enlarging  over  the  back;  the 
primaries  and  the  under  parts,  black;  the  other  parts  are 
white;  thus  making  a  very  strongly  marked  species. 

THE    HARLEQUIN    DUCK. 

The  most  fantastic  of  all  our  Ducks  is  the  Harlequin 
{Histrionicus  torquatus],  or  Lord  and  Lady,  as  the  two-  sexes 
are  called  on  the  coasts  of  New  England.  About  IV  inches 
long  and  27-28  in  extent,  bill  short  and  small,  tail  rather 
long  and  pointed,  the  male  has  the  head  and  neck  of  dusky- 
ash;  upper  breast  and  shoulders,  bluish-ash;  under  parts, 
dusky-brown;  triangular-crescent  spot  at  the  base  of  the 
bill,  in  front  of  the  eye  and  extending  up  on  the  crown;  a 
narrow  line  on  the  back  of  the  crown,  a  spot  back  of  the 
ear,  a  long  one  on  the  neck,  a  narrow  ring  around  the  lower 
neck,  large  epaulets;  markings  on  the  scapulars,  tertiaries, 
wing-coverts  and  sides  at  the  base  of  the  tail,  white;  the 
white  generally  margined  with  black;  a  streak  on  each  side 
of  the  crown,  and  the  long  feathers  on  the  sides,  chestnut- 
red  or  brown;  rump,  tail,  and  under- tail  coverts,  black. 
The  female  is  dusky-brown,  with  whitish  markings  in 
front  of  the  eye,  and  a  clear  white  spot  back  of  the  ear. 
The  young  males  are  several  years  in  coming  to  maturity. 


THE  HARLEQUIN  DUCK.  487 

In  Audubon's  time  this  species  was  common,  in  winter, 
from  Boston  northward,  and  bred  as  far  south  as  Grand 
Menan;  at  present  it  is  doubtful  if  it  breeds  farther  south 
than  Labrador  and  Newfoundland,  and  is  not  very  plentiful 
there;  while  in  respect  to  their  winter  habitat,  Mr.  E.  Smith, 
of  Portland,  Maine,  says  they  are  "  not  very  common,  but 
of  regular  occurrence  along  the  coast  in  winter,  frequenting 
the  outermost  islands  and  ledges;"  also  that  they  are  "very 
active,  expert  divers,  and  generally  wary,  and  as  their  haunts 
are  not  easily  accessible,  but  few  of  the  birds  are  shot." 

About  Mud  and  Seal  Islands,  Yarmouth  Co.,  Nova  Scotia, 
this  species  is  still  found  in  considerable  numbers  through- 
out the  winter,  there  being  sometimes  as  many  as  a  hundred 
in  a  flock.  They  keep  about  the  rocks  and  ledges,  feeding 
on  the  small  crustaceans  called  sand  fleas,  and  on  small  gas- 
teropods.  Shooting  the  "  Rock  Ducks,"  as  they  call  them 
here,  is  the  rarest  sport  of  the  season.  An  attractive  sight, 
indeed,  is  a  flock  of  these  strikingly  marked  birds,  on  a  sol- 
itary outlying  rock,  on  a  bleak  winter's  day.  The  males 
are  said  to  be  particularly,  proud  in  their  manner,  stretching 
up  their  necks  and  bowing  to  each  other  when  a  number  of 
them  alight  together,  and  emitting  a  peculiar  soft  whistling 
note,  not  unlike  that  of  the  Common  Partridge  or  Ruffed 
Grouse.  They  generally  arrive  in  November  and  leave  in 
April.  For  these  interesting  facts,  I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  John 
Crowell,  of  Seal  Island,  who  is  not  only  a  gentleman  of 
great  generosity,  but  one  of  the  most  accurate  observers  of 
nature  that  it  has  ever  been  my  pleasure  to  meet. 

It  is  now  pretty  evident,  that  this  species  breeds  in  holes 
in  trees,  like  the  Wood  Thrush.  It  is  so  reported  from  the 
interior  of  Newfoundland. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

BIRD-LIFE    IN    NOVA   SCOTIA. 

NOVA  Scotia  is  especially  favored  with  the  Warblers. 
The  beautiful  and  musical  Yellow  Warbler  (D.  astiva) 
is  as  common  here  as  in  New  England,  and  with  its  usual 
familiarity,  may  build  its  nest  in  the  rose-bush  by  the 
front  door.  From  almost  every  clump  of  evergreens  comes 
the  peculiar  ditty  of  the  Black-throated  Green  Warbler 
(D.  virens).  The  sprightly  whistle  of  the  Black-and- Yellow 
Warbler  (D.  maculosd)  is  quite  common  to  the  evergreen  and 
mixed  forests;  the  musical  twitter  of  the  Yellow-rump  (D. 
coronatd)  is  often  heard  in  the  pine  groves;  the  soft  shrilling 
insect-tones  of  the  Yellow-backed  Blue  Warbler  (Parula 
americana)  is  nearly  as  common  as  in  New  England;  the 
conspicuous  little  figure  of  the  Black-and-white  Creeping 
Warbler  (Mniotilta  varia)  is  frequent  on  the  trunks  of  the 
lowland  forest-trees;  the  Black-throated  Blue  Warbler  (D. 
ccerulescens]  is  not  rare;  the  Maryland  Yellow- throat  (Geothly- 
pis  trichas]  delights  in  the  swamps  and  numerous  wild 
meadows;  the  Redstart  (Sttophaga  ruticilld]  flashes  among 
the  foliage;  the  Chestnut-side  is  to  be  found  occasionally; 
Audubon  reports  the  nest  of  the  Blackburnian  from  this 
locality;  and  Mr.  Andrew  Downes  regards  the  Yellow  Red- 
poll as  a  common  resident.  All  of  the  above  no  doubt  breed 
in  the  numbers  there  indicated,  while  the  echoing  chant  of 
the  Golden-crown  (Seiurus  aurocapillus]  is  frequently  heard; 


THE  BLACK-POLL    WARBLER.  439 

and  its  near  relative,  the  Water  Thrush   (S.  noveboracensis), 
is  at  home  in  the  bogs  and  swamps. 

THE    BLACK-POLL    WARBLER. 

I  do  not  remember  hearing  the  Black-poll  (D.  striatd)  on 
the  main-land  of  the  peninsula,  but  on  the  Mud  and  Seal 
Islands,  about  fifteen  miles  out  at  sea,  nearly  in  range  with 
the  county-line  between  Yarmouth  and  Shelburn  counties, 
they  are  positively  abundant  throughout  the  breeding  season 
— so  abundant  that,  while  wandering  among  the  evergreens, 
one  is  at  no  time  out  of  the  reach  of  their  song,  and  often 
several  can  be  heard  at  once.  That  song,  though  one  of 
the  most  slender  and  wiry  in  all  our  forests,  is  as  distin- 
guishable as  the  hum  of  the  Cicada  or  the  shrilling  of  the 
Katydid.  Tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-tree-treey  rapidly  uttered, 
the  monotonous  notes  of  equal  length,  beginning  very 
softly,  gradually  increasing  to  the  middle  of  the  strain, 
and  then  as  gradually  diminishing,  thus  forming  a  fine 
musical  swell — may  convey  a  fair  idea  of  the  song.  There 
is  a  peculiar  soft  and  tinkling  sweetness  in  this  melody,  sug- 
gestive of  the  quiet  mysteries  of  the  forest,  and  sedative  as 
an  anodyne  to  the  nerves.  The  chaste  little  figure  striped 
in  half  mourning  and  capped  in  jet-black,  every  now  and 
then  reaches  the  tip-top  of  some  evergreen,  stretches  him- 
self up  in  song  in  full  sight,  and  then  darts  into  the  thicket. 
As  one  nears  the  nest,  the  female  may  be  seen  beating  her 
wings  along  the  branches  in  the  utmost  distress,  or  one 
may  still  hear  her  sharp  chipping  note  of  alarm  as  she  dis- 
appears in  the  almost  impenetrable  growth  of  small  black 
spruce.  The  nest  is  very  uniquely  placed.  Generally  within 
reach  from  the  ground,  often  quite  low  and  on  a  limb 
against  the  trunk  of  a  small  tree,  it  is  a  bulky  structure, 
about  five  inches  in  external  and  two  in  internal  diameter, 


490  THE  BLACK-POLL    WARBLER. 

about  one  inch  in  depth  internally  and  three  in  depth 
externally,  and  is  composed  of  the  small  spray  of  the  ever- 
greens, dried  weeds,  moss  and  wool,  the  lining  being  of 
fine  dried  grasses  and  a  few  feathers.  The  materials  are  all 
rather  roughly  laid;  and  the  wool  may  be  peculiar  to  the 
locality  under  consideration,  as  the  hundreds  of  sheep  kept 
here  throughout  the  year  leave  tags  of  their  fleece  on 
almost  every  bush.  The  four  eggs,  about  .75X-53,  are 
grayish-white,  slightly  specked  all  over,  and  spotted  in  a 
wreath  around  the  large  end,  with  several  shades  of  brown, 
and  still  more  with  subdued  lilac  or  neutral  tint;  the  whole 
being  intensified  with  here  and  there  a  distinct  blackish 
spot  or  scrawl  in  the  wreath  of  spots  or  thickest  part  of  the 
marking.  The  eggs  of  the  various  species  of  Warblers 
differing  greatly  in  size  for  birds  so  similar  in  measurement, 
those  of  this  species  are  among  the  larger  specimens. 

In  color  and  in  habit  the  Black-poll  is  strongly  differen- 
tiated. Male,  5.50  long  and  8.50  in  extent,  has  first  primary  as 
long  as  the  second,  thus  making  the  wing  quite  pointed,  and 
the  tail  emarginate.  The  upper  parts  are  light  bluish-ash 
streaked  with  black;  crown,  jet-black;  wings  and  tail,  dusky, 
the  former  edged  with  greenish,  the  latter  edged  with  white, 
and  having  patches  of  white  on  the  inner  web  of  the  three 
outer  feathers  toward  the  end;  tertiaries  edged,  and  wing- 
coverts  tipped,  with  white;  cheeks  and  under  parts,  white, 
with  spotted  lines  of  black  from  the  bill  down  the  sides. 
Female  similar,  with  colors  and  marking  not  so  bright,  gen- 
erally more  or  less  tinged  with  greenish-yellow. 

The  mature  male,  moving  among  the  dark  foliage,  much 
after  the  manner  of  a  Flycatcher,  also  capturing  insects 
with  a  sharp  snap  of  the  bill,  is  as  conspicuous  in  his 
strongly  contrasted  colors  as  the  Black-and-White  Creeper 
or  the  Black-capped  Chickadee.  Appearing  in  the  very 


THE  HERMIT   THRUSH.  491 

tail  of  the  migration  of  its  family,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  looked 
for  in  Western  New  York  till  the  middle  or  latter  part  of 
May,  and  Audubon  found  the  eggs  of  the  species  in  Labra- 
dor as  late  as  the  middle  of  July.  But  if  the  Black-poll 
seems  to  be  a  laggard,  let  it  be  remembered  that  it  is  a  great 
traveler.  Wintering  in  Central  America  and  the  West  In- 
dies, and  traveling,  perhaps,  largely  at  sea,  it  does  not  slacken 
its  migrations  till  it  reaches  the  oceanic  islands  off  north- 
eastern Maine  and  Nova  Scotia;  and  breeding  commonly  in 
Labrador,  it  extends  even  to  Alaska  and  the  Arctic  Ocean. 
Nebraska  seems  to  be  about  its  western  limit. 

THE    HERMIT    THRUSH. 

One  of  the  most  charming  items  to  a  naturalist,  visiting 
Northern  New  England  or  the  Maritime  Provinces  in 
spring,  is  the  song  of  the  Hermit  Thrush  (Turdus pallasi). 
I  reached  Paradise,  in  the  Annapolis  Valley,  Nova  Scotia, 
during  the  night,  and,  early  the  next  morning  climbed  the 
South  Mountain  to  listen  to  the  birds.  It  was  the  beau- 
tiful morning  of  the  second  of  June,  1883.  As  I  passed 
through  a  swampy  tract  of  alders,  on  nearing  the  foot  of 
the  mountain,  I  was  greeted  with  the  divine  song  of  the 
Hermit.  It  had  been  familiar  to  me  in  the  days  of  child- 
hood, and  I  had  often  recalled  the  unutterably  sacred  feel- 
ings it  used  to  awaken;  but  never  during  the  many  years  of 
my  ornithological  studies  had  I  heard  it,  though  I  was  quite 
familiar  with  the  bird  in  its  migrations.  Stimulated  by 
anticipation,  and  with  a  vague  conception  formed  from  the 
descriptions  of  authors,  and  the  analogous  songs  of  other 
Thrushes,  I  was  prepared  for  the  happiest  impression.  It 
was  a  moment  never  to  be  forgotten.  The  song  begins 
with  a  note  not  unlike  the  vowel  O,  passing  through  several 
intervals  of  the  musical  scale  in  a  smooth,  upward  slide,  and 


492  THE  HERMIT   THRUSH. 

in  a  tone  of  indescribable  melodiousness,  and  continues 
in  a  shake  which  gradually  softens  into  silence,  thus  giving 
a  most  pleasing  diminuendo.  Put  into  syllables,  it  is  well 
represented  by  Mr.  Burrough's  phrase,  "  O-o-o-o,  holy-holy- 
holy-holy  :"  and  I  sometimes  thought  I  heard  it  say,  O-o-o-oy 
seraph-seraph-seraph-seraph.  Again  I  could  discover  no  sug- 
gestion of  articulate  language,  but  only  that  soul-language 
of  pure  melody,  which  speaks  directly  to  the  heart  without 
the  ruder  incumbrance  of  speech.  With  short  pauses,  this 
diminuendo  is  repeated  any  number  of  times,  but  always 
on  a  different  key  and  with  a  different  modulation.  Now  it 
is  on  the  main  chords,  now  on  the  intermediates,  and  now 
on  the  most  delicately  chosen  and  inspiring  chromatics. 
When  pitched  high,  the  shake  is  through  a  shorter  interval, 
and  in  a  weaker  tone  The  lower-toned  modulations  are 
always  the  sweetest.  Sometimes  the  tones  are  so  soft  as 
to  sound  far  away,  though  the  bird  is  quite  near;  and  again 
the  notes  are  very  penetrating,  and  may  be  heard  for  quite 
a  distance,  especially  when  aided  by  the  enchanting  echoes  of 
tall,  dense  forests.  The  tone  of  the  melody  is  neither  of  flute, 
nor  hautboy  nor  vox-humana,  but  something  of  inimitable 
sweetness,  and  never  heard  away  from  the  fragrant  arcades 
of  the  forest.  "Spiritual  serenity,"  or  a  refined,  poetic, 
religious  devotion,  is  indeed  the  sentiment  of  the  song.  He 
whose  troubled  spirit  cannot  be  soothed  or  comforted,  or 
whose  religious  feelings  cannot  be  awakened  by  this  song,  iu 
twilight,  must  lack  the  full  sense  of  hearing,  or  that  inner 
sense  of  the  soul  which  catches  nature's  most  significant 
voices.  It  is  a  voice  which  should  always  direct  us  heaven- 
ward. 

Notwithstanding  its  retiring  habits  and  its  celestial  song, 
this  bird  is  decidedly  lowly  and  humble  in  its  nidification. 
The  nest  is  not  placed  in  a  bush  or  small  tree,  as  is  the  case 


THE    CANADA  JA  Y.  493 

with  the  Wood  Thrush  and  the  Olive-back  and  its  allies,  nor 
on  a  pile  of  brush  or  dried  leaves  near  the  ground,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Wilson;  but  it  is  sunken  into  the  ground, 
among  the  forest  plants  or  ferns,  the  rim  being  about  level 
with  the  surface.  It  is  somewhat  bulky,  and  quite  substan- 
tially built  of  dried  weeds  and  grasses,  slightly  intermixed 
with  moss.  The  lining  is  of  similar  but  finer  material, 
sometimes  brightened  with  the  glossy  red  or  black  capsule- 
stems  of  mosses.  The  eggs,  of  clear  bluish-green,  are 
about  .85-.90  X  .62-65. 

The  alarm-note,  or  breeding-call  of  this  species,  is  a  soft, 
quee-e-e-e-eh,  somewhat  resembling  the  call  of  the  Vireos. 

All  in  all,  this  is  about  the  most  boreal  of  the  Thrushes. 
Wintering  in  the  Southern — and  occasionally,  it  would  seem, 
even  in  the  Middle — States,  it  breeds  from  Northern  New 
England  far  to  the  north.  The  variety  nanus  seems  pecul- 
iar to  the  southern  Rocky  Mountains,  as  is  auduboni  to  the 
regions  beyond.  The  Hermit  breeds  in  the  high  altitudes 
of  the  above  mountains,  even  as  far  south  as  Colorado. 

Early  in  April,  the  russet  form  of  this  Thrush  is  seen, 
frequently,  on  the  ground,  among  the  faded  leaves  of  our 
forests  in  Western  New  York,  on  its  way  to  the  north;  and 
again  in  October,  or  perhaps  as  late  as  November,  when  the 
first  snow  falls,  it  appears  again,  quite  commonly,  on  its  way 
south.  Like  the  rest  of  the  Thrushes,  it  feeds  on  the 
ground,  running  briskly,  and  often  dropping  down  from 
the  branches,  between  the  strains  of  its  song,  to  pick  up 
some  favorite  morsel,  spied  in  the  distance  by  those  large, 
dark  eyes,  so  common  to  the  family. 

THE    CANADA    JAY. 

On  the  9th  of  June  (1883),  in  a  wild  meadow  in  Lunen- 
burg  County,  N.  S.,  I  was  much  amused  watching  a  female 


•494  THE   CANADA  JA  Y. 

Canada  Jay  (Perisoreus  canadensis)  feed  her  full-grown 
young.  So  great  is  the  difference  in  color  of  the  old  and 
young  of  this  bird,  that  Swainson,  in  the  "  Fauna  Boreali- 
Americana,"  figured  the  young  as  another  species.  About 
11  inches  long  and  15  in  extent,  the  mature  bird  is  dusky- 
ash,  the  feathers  over  the  back  and  wing-coverts,  tinged 
toward  the  tip  with  reddish;  forehead,  throat,  ear-coverts, 
front  and  sides  of  the  neck,  and  tips  of  the  wing  and  tail 
feathers,  white;  under  parts,  light  reddish,  tinged  with  ash; 
bill  and  feet,  black.  Male  and  female  are  alike. 

The  young  are  deep  dusky-ash,  with  the  head  blackish; 
streak  from  the  base  of  the  bill  across  the  ear-coverts,  tips 
of  the  greater  wing-coverts  and  of  the  wing  and  tail 
feathers,  and  the  vent,  white;  bill,  bluish-white,  tipped  with 
black.  Thus  the  young  are  so  much  darker  than  the  parent 
as  to  appear  like  another  species. 

The  brood  referred  to  were  full-grown,  and  yet  were  be- 
ing fed  as  assiduously  as  if  they  had  been  callow  nestlings. 
Their  noisiness,  when  the  mother-bird  arrived  with  food, 
first  attracted  my  attention,  the  noise  being  a  sort  of  hiss- 
ing squeal,  loud  enough  to  startle  anything  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. The  parent  also  had  a  squealing  note,  and  another 
sounding  like  choo-choo-choo-choo,  the  note,  perhaps,  which 
Audubon  compared  to  light  strokes  on  an  anvil. 

The  Canada  Jay,  or  Meat  Hawk,  or  Whiskey  Jack,  or 
Carrion-bird,  may  be  most  readily  allured  by  its  stomach. 
Ordinarily  shy  and  distant,  like  other  Jays,  it  will  come  so 
near  as  to  appear  almost  domesticated,  wherever  there  is 
some  suitable  food  to  attract  it.  Butchering-day  among 
the  farmers  is  sure  to  bring  him.  Perching  on  the  nearest 
available  object,  and  closely  eying  the  whole  proceeding, 
he  will  frequently  drop  down  almost  within  reach  to  pick 
up  a  fresh  morsel.  The  fisherman  on  some  inland  lake  or 


THE   CANADA  JA  Y.  49.5 

stream,  may  discover  him  in  the  other  end  of  his  boat,  pil- 
laging his  bait;  the  camper-out  will  be  most  sure  to  receive 
a  call  from  him  as  soon  as  his  quarters  are  taken  up,  and 
every  stray  crumb  or  bit  of  offal  will  reveal  the  motive  of 
his  visit;  he  seeks  out  the  lumberman  in  the  deep  forest, 
and,  in  the  emergencies  of  winter,  will  even  take  food 
from  his  hand.  Audubon  describes  a  rather  cruel  amuse- 
ment of  the  lumbermen  with  this  bird.  "  This  is  done,"  he 
says,  "  by  cutting  a  pole  eight  or  ten  feet  in  length,  balancing 
it  on  the  sill  of  their  hut,  the  end  outside  the  entrance  being 
baited  with  a  piece  of  flesh  of  any  kind.  Immediately  on 
seeing  the  tempting  morsel,  the  Jays  alight  on  it,  and  while 
they  are  busily  engaged  in  devouring  it,  a  wood-cutter  gives 
a  smart  blow  to  the  end  of  the  pole  within  the  hut,  which 
seldom  fails  to  drive  the  birds  high  into  the  air,  and  not 
infrequently  kills  them." 

Exceedingly  plain  in  color,  and  repulsive,  rather  than 
pleasing,  in  its  vocal  performances,  the  Canada  Jay  is  decid- 
edly graceful,  however,  in  its  movements.  How  emphatic, 
and  peculiar  to  itself,  is  that  nod  of  the  head  as  it  alights, 
and  there  is  a  peculiar  jerk  of  the  wings  and  tail.  When 
alighting  in  one  of  the  lower  branches  of  a  tree,  it  will 
sometimes  ascend,  hopping  jauntily  from  one  limb  to 
another,  round  and  round  the  trunk,  thus  reaching  the  top 
as  if  by  a  winding  stairs.  Its  flight,  too,  is  showy,  resem- 
bling that  of  its  gay  relative,  the  Blue  Jay. 

True  to  its  membership  in  the  Crow  family,  it  is  said  to 
be  a  devourer  of  the  eggs  and  young  of  other  birds,  not 
sparing  even  the  eggs  of  the  Crow  itself.  Some  competent 
writers  say  that  its  sagacity  extends  even  to  hiding  and 
hoarding  food  for  the  winter. 

Like  some  other  hardy  birds,  it  begins  the  breeding  pro- 
cess very  early,  even  in  February  or  March,  thus  bringing 


496  THE  RAVEN. 

out  its  young  before  most  other  birds  begin  to  build.  In- 
deed, these  young  Jays  are  already  flying  by  the  time  most 
of  our  migratory  birds  arrive.  The  nest,  placed  in  the 
thick  part  of  a  tree,  is  built  of  twigs,  hay  arid  moss,  and  is 
lined  with  fine  fibrous  roots,  like  that  of  the  Blue  Jay. 
The  eggs,  about  1.20X-?0,  are  gray  or  grayish-white,  marked 
all  over,  but  more  especially  at  the  butt,  with  several  shades 
of  a  neutral  tint,  and  with  spots  of  dark  olive-brown.  This 
species  breeds  from  northern  New  England  to  39°,  and 
down  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  probably  to  Colorado.  It 
sometimes  strays  to  the  Middle  States  in  winter. 

THE    RAVEN. 

A  very  common  bird-voice,  in  Nova  Scotia,  is  the  hoarse 
croak  of  the  Raven  (Coruus  corax].  This  bird  is  much 
oftener  heard  than  seen,  however,  for  it  is  too  shy  and  wary 
to  make  its  appearance  except  in  the  distance.  Then  it  is 
readily  distinguishable  from  the  Crow  by  its  much  greater 
size.  Occasionally,  especially  if  you  are  riding  in  some 
conveyance,  it  will  perch  near  by  and  in  full  sight,  when  its 
size,  its  loose  flowing  plumage,  and  its  thick,  gull-like  bill, 
mark  it  unmistakably.  In  flight  it  may  differ  very  materially 
from  the  Crow,  soaring  high  and  majestically,  after  the 
manner  of  the  large  Buzzards  or  the  Eagle,  though  its  ordi- 
nary beating  flight  is  quite  crow-like. 

For  the  most  part  the  Raven  is  a  bird  of  the  north,  and 
is  partly  migratory.  Retired  woodland  lakes  and  streams, 
solitary  cataracts,  rushing  rapids  in  deep  ravines,  forest-clad 
cliffs  of  great  rivers,  wooded  islands  out  in  the  ocean,  and 
lonely  beetling  crags  about  the  sea,  are  the  haunts  of  this 
majestic  and  mysterious  bird.  Perhaps  from  a  natural 
aversion  to  man,  but  more  probably  from  being  constantly 
persecuted  by  him,  it  disappears  entirely  from  the  more 


THE  RAVEN.  497 

cultivated  parts  of  the  country.  For  instance,  about  Niag- 
ara Falls,  and  along  the  south  shores  of  Lakes  Erie  and 
Ontario,  where  Wilson  reported  it  as  abundant  in  his  time, 
it  seems  now  to  have  entirely  disappeared. 

Though  its  dignified  proportions,  its  color  of  magnificent 
black,  and  its  distant,  wary  and  stately  ways,  as  well  as  the 
inscrutable  mystery  with  which  superstition  has  always 
invested  it,  give  it  a  very  high,  aesthetic  regard,  many  of  its 
habits  are  by  no  means  pleasing.  In  respect  to  diet,  it  is  to 
a  great  extent  a  carrion-eater,  feeding  especially  on  dead 
fish  which  float  up  on  the  shores.  Not  only  does  it  destroy 
birds  and  their  eggs  and  weakly  young  lambs,  but  also  the 
tender  young  of  animals  generally. 

This  magnificent  bird  may  have  much  said  in  his  favor, 
however.  One  who  was  most  familiar  with  the  habits  of 
birds  says  that  "the  Raven  destroys  numberless  insects, 
grubs  and  worms;  that  he  kills  mice,  moles  and  rats,  when- 
ever he  can  find  them ;  that  he  will  seize  the  weasel,  the  young 
opossum,  and  the  skunk;  that,  with  the  perseverance  of  a 
cat,  he  will  watch  the  burrows  of  foxes,  and  pounce  on  the 
cubs."  Even  his  carrion-eating  propensities  have  their 
utility;  so  that  it  is  highly  probable  that  the  Raven,  not- 
withstanding all  that  may  be  said  against  him,  is  much  more 
useful  than  injurious.  Indeed,  he  is  possessed  of  so  much 
character,  and  has  filled  so  large  a  place  in  history,  that  the 
world  would  seem  incomplete  without  him.  He  is  the  first 
bird  mentioned  in  the  Bible.  When  the  flood  began  to  decline, 
Noah  "sent  forth  a  Raven,  which  went  forth  to  and  fro  until 
the  waters  were  dried  up  from  off  the  earth."  "That  is,"  says 
Tristram,  the  celebrated  English  writer  on  the  natural  his- 
tory of  the  Bible,  "  the  Raven  kept  going  and  returning  to 
the  ark,  resting  on  it,  but  not  entering  into  it  again,  and 
finding  its  food  in  the  floating  carcasses.  No  other  bird 
32 


498  THE  RAVEN. 

was  so  well  adapted  to  obtain  its  subsistence  amidst  the 
scene  of  desolation;  and  the  fact  that  it  did  not  return  into 
the  ark  would  afford  Noah  a  sign  that  the  first  stage  of  the 
subsidence  of  the  waters  was  accomplished." 

The  poets  of  all  time  have  made  the  Raven,  with  its 
hoarse,  guttural  tones,  and  its  supposed  untimely  flight,  the 
sign  and  symbol  of  the  darkest  coming  evils.  Has  the 
night  given  us  a  mysterious  and  awful  idea  of  darkness  ? 
The  Raven  has  furnished  our  most  beautiful  and  poetic 
conception  of  blackness.  The  peculiar  majesty  of  his  form 
and  color  is  a  dark  point  in  nature's  picture,  most  essential 
to  its  completeness;  the  absence  of  his  weird  tones  would 
greatly  detract  from  the  harmony  and  significance  of  bird- 
music;  and  what  a  noticeable  break  in  our  literature  would 
come  with  his  departure! 

Audubon  assigns  the  nest  of  the  Raven  to  some  inaccessi- 
ble cliff,  and  such  no  doubt  is  its  most  natural  location;  but 
in  the  absence  of  suitable  rocky  cliffs,  it  is  placed  in  a  tree. 
On  the  Mud  and  Seal  Islands  it  is  built  in  the  flat-topped, 
low  spruces,  so  common  to  the  locality.  Generally  placed 
under  a  canopy  of  thick,  broad  branches,  it  is  made  of 
large,  crooked,  weather-worn  sticks,  closely  and  artistically 
laid,  being  rimmed  up  with  finer  material  and  well  lined 
with  wool;  the  same  nest  being  repaired  from  year  to  year. 
Thus,  in  course  of  time,  it  becomes  quite  bulky,  like  that  of 
the  large  Buzzards  or  the  Eagle.  The  eggs,  4-6,  and  some 
1.75x1.40,  are  bluish-green,  spotted  all  over,  but  more  at 
the  butt,  with  brown  and  pale  purple,  the  ground  color  being 
much  lighter  or  darker  in  different  specimens,  and  the  extent 
of  marking  being  subject  to  great  variation.  The  nesting 
begins  as  early  as  March,  in  Nova  Scotia,  and  the  whole 
family  are  abroad  in  June. 

The  Raven  is  of  almost  world-wide  distribution;  and  that 


THE   CANADA    GROUSE.  499 

of  America,  though  slightly  larger,  probably  is  not  specifi- 
cally different  from  that  of  Europe. 

THE    CANADA    GROUSE. 

Nova  Scotia  is  fairly  within  the  habitat  of  the  Spruce 
Partridge  or  Canada  Grouse  (Tetrao  canadensis) ;  and  it  may 
be  found  there,  commonly,  in  all  suitable  places — evergreen 
woods  and  swamps,  and  uncleared  tracts  of  more  or  less 
barren  land.  As  with  the  Grouse  generally,  this  species  is 
not  migratory,  its  habitat  being  from  the  extreme  north  of 
New  England  to  Labrador  northward,  and  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  Alaska  westward.  About  16.00  long,  the 
general  color  of  the  male  is  black,  the  under  parts  being 
more  or  less  barred  and  spotted  with  clear  white,  the 
upper  parts  waved  with  gray  or  reddish-brown,  and  the 
quills  variegated  with  light  brown;  the  black  tail  is  ter- 
minally banded  with  bright  reddish-brown;  naked  space 
over  the  eye,  bright  vermilion;  legs  feathered  to  between 
the  toes.  Female  a  little  smaller,  the  black  being  less  clear, 
and  much  variegated  with  brown  and  white,  the  tail  band 
less  bright. 

This  is  a  bird  of  gentle,  retired  ways.  Never  does  it 
make  itself  common  about  fields  and  pastures,  piping  from 
fence-stakes,  like  the  Quail;  nor  wrill  it  expose  itself  in  the 
open  and  by  the  roadside,  even  as  much  as  the  Ruffed 
Grouse.  It  is  the  aristocrat  of  its  family,  stepping  daintily 
on  its  moss-carpeted  and  deeply-shaded  apartments,  feed- 
ing in  summer  on  such  berries  as  may  be  found  in  the 
forest,  and  in  winter  being  content  with  even  the  leaves  of 
the  evergreens.  Its  flesh,  being  dark  and  unsavory,  is  not 
much  in  favor. 

Its  simple  nest  is  generally  well  concealed  on  the  ground, 
and  contains  some  dozen  quite  pointed  eggs,  1.65— 1.70  x 


500  THE   GOLDEN-CROWNED  KINGLET. 

1.15—1.25,  brownish-cream,  spotted  and  more  or  less  blotched 
with  dark-brown. 

The  note  of  this  species  is  a  soft  chuck,  and  it  has  not 
the  jaunty  jerk  of  the  tail  when  walking,  so  noticeable  in 
the  Ruffed  Grouse.  In  every  way  its  manner  is  less  self- 
conscious  and  gay.  It  is  equally  attached  to  its  young, 
however,  and  will  seek  their  safety  with  similar  arts  of  simu- 
lated distress.  Ordinarily  it  is  so  tame  and  unwary,  that  it 
may  be  taken  by  a  noose  fastened  on  the  end  of  a  stick. 

Mr.  Everett  Smith,  of  Portland,  Me.,  says:  "The  Canada 
Grouse  performs  its  *  drumming'  upon  the  trunk  of  a  stand- 
ing tree  of  rather  small  size,  preferably  one  that  is  inclined 
from  the  perpendicular,  and  in  the  following  manner:  Com- 
mencing near  the  base  of  the  tree  selected,  the  bird  flutters 
upward  with  somewhat  slow  progress,  but  with  rapidly  beat- 
ing wings,  which  produce  the  drumming  sound.  Having  thus 
ascended  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  it  glides  quietly  on  the  wing 
to  the  ground,  and  then  repeats  the  maneuver.  Favorite 
places  are  resorted  to  habitually,  and  these  '  drumming  trees ' 
are  well  known  to  observant  woodsmen.  I  have  seen  one 
that  was  so  well  worn  upon  the  bark  as  to  lead  to  the  belief 
that  it  had  been  used  for  this  purpose  for  many  years.  This 
tree  was  a  spruce  six  inches  in  diameter,  with  an  inclina- 
tion of  about  fifteen  degrees  from  the  perpendicular,  and 
was  known  to  have  been  used  as  a  ' drumming  tree'  for 
several  seasons.  The  upper  surface  and  sides  of  the  trunk 
were  so  worn  by  the  feet  and  wings  of  the  bird,  or  birds, 
using  it  for  drumming,  that  for  a  distance  of  a  dozen  or 
fifteen  feet  the  bark  had  become  quite  smooth  and  red,  as  if 
rubbed." 

THE    GOLDEN-CROWNED    KINGLET. 

Having  heard  the  song  of  the  Golden-crowned  Kinglet 
(Regulus  satrapa)  to  the  very  last  days  of  June,  and  having 


THE   GOLDEN-CROWNED  KINGLET.  501 

seen  the  female  at  different  periods  of  the  month,  and  finally 
with  food  in  her  bill,  in  Nova  Scotia,  I  infer  that  it  breeds 
commonly  in  that  province.  This  accords  with  the  fact,  now 
well  authenticated,  that  it  breeds  from  Northern  New  Eng- 
land northward.  Its  song,  sounding  like  te-eet,  te-eet,  te-eet, 
te-eet,  te-eet^  te-eet,  in  a  soft  whistling  tone,  is  somewhat 
monotonous,  indeed,  but  a  pleasing  melody  in  the  soft  sough 
of  the  evergreens.  Nor  is  this  song  of  the  breeding  time  to 
be  confounded  with  its  soft  lisping  conversational  notes 
heard  throughout  the  year.  Smallest  of  all  our  birds 
except  the  Hummingbird,  only  4-4.50  long,  so  hardy  that 
it  can  spend  the  winter  in  our  Middle  States,  and  even  in 
Southern  New  England  this  is  one  of  our  first  and  most 
abundant  migrants.  From  early  in  March  till  the  middle 
or  last  days  of  April,  its  spirited  flitting  motions — whether 
most  like  those  of  the  Warbler,  Flycatcher,  or  Titmouse,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  say — may  be  observed  in  the  woods,  the 
thicket,  or  the  orchard.  A  charming  sylvan  ornament  is  this 
tiny,  elegant,  and  gracefully  moving  songster.  Dark  green- 
ish-olive above,  grayish-white  below,  outer  webs  of  the 
dusky  wing  and  tail  feathers,  light  green,  wings  marked 
with  white  and  black,  crown,  bright  flame-color,  margined 
with  yellow  and  again  with  black,  the  male  is  truly  a  king 
in  all  but  size,  and  therefore  may  fitly  be  called  a  King-/^/. 
The  female  is  like  the  male,  lacking  the  flame-colored 
center  in  the  crown,  her  crown  being  simply  yellow,  mar- 
gined with  black. 

The  nest  of  this  species  was  found  by  Mr.  H.  D.  Minot, 
of  Boston,  July  16th,  1875,  it  having  been  tracked  out  by 
observing  the  female  in  the  act  of  conveying  food  to  her 
young,  of  which  it  contained  six.  It  "hung  four  feet  above 
the  ground,  from  a  spreading  hemlock  bough,  to  the  twigs 
of  which  it  was  firmly  fastened;  it  was  globular,  with  an 


502  THE  R UB  Y-CRO  WNED  KINGLE  T. 

entrance  in  the  upper  part,  and  was  composed  of  hanging 
moss,  ornamented  with  bits  of  dead  leaves,  and  lined  chiefly 
with  feathers."  An  egg,  found  in  Labrador,  is  said  to  be 
small  and  pretty,  with  clay-colored  spots  on  a  white  ground. 
Notwithstanding  the  immense  numbers  of  this  little  insec- 
tivorous species,  the  study  of  its  nidification  still  invites  the 
ornithologist. 

THE   RUBY-CROWNED    KINGLET. 

Who  has  not  seen  the  Ruby-crowned  Kinglet  (Regulus 
calendula)  in  the  thick  migrations  of  spring  and  autumn  ? 
Who  that  visits  the  grove,  the  thicket  or  the  orchard  in 
April  or  October  can  fail  to  hear  its  soft  whispering  tse-tse- 
tse,  as  if  the  wee  sprites,  almost  invisible  but  for  their  ner- 
vous flitting  motion,  were  confidentially  lisping  their  secrets 
in  the  thick  branches  overhead?  Occasionally  in  the  very 
last  days  of  its  spring  migration,  one  may  hear  its  song. 
Such  was  my  privilege  the  first  day  of  May  (1883) —  a  calm 
sunny  day,  when  every  inch  of  atmosphere  was  calling  to 
swelling  buds  and  springing  grass,  when  every  breath  was 
rest  and  inspiration.  The  place  was  a  beautiful  park-like, 
open  grove  near  Niagara  River.  The  song  came  from  out 
of  a  thick  clump  of  wild  thorns,  and  was  so  loud  and 
spirited  that  I  was  led  to  expect  a  bird  at  least  as  large  as 
a  Thrush.  Chee-oo,  chee-oo,  chee-oo,  chee-oo,  choo,  choo,  choo, 
tseet,  tseet,  tseet,  tseet,  te-tseet,  te-tseet,  te-tseet;  again,  tseet,  tseet, 
tseet,  tseet,  choo,  choo,  choo,  choo,  chee-oo,  chee-oo,  tsit,  tsit,  tsit, 
tsit,  may  represent  this  wonderful  melody,  the  first  notes 
being  strongly  palatal  and  somewhat  aspirated,  the  latter 
slender  and  sibilant,  and  more  rapidly  uttered;  the  first 
part  being  also  so  full  and  animated  as  to  make  one  think 
of  the  Water  Thrush,  or  the  Winter  Wren;  while  the  last 
part  sounded  like  a  succeedant  song  from  a  slender-voiced 
Warbler.  Could  all  this  come  from  the  throat  of  this  tiny, 


THE  RUBY-CROWNED  KINGLET.  503 

four-inch  Sylvia  ?  I  was  obliged  to  believe  my  own  eyes, 
for  I  saw  the  bird  many  times  in  the  act  of  singing.  The 
melody  was  such  as  to  mark  the  day  on  which  I  heard  it. 

In  size  and  color  the  species  is  in  every  way  like  the 
former,  except  the  clear  ruby  crown,  often  concealed  by 
the  surrounding  loose  feathers,  and  sometimes — probably 
in  the  case  of  birds  less  than  two  years  old — not  found 
at  all.*  In  habit  it  is  regarded  as  more  southern,  than  its 
near  relative,  for  it  winters  even  in  Mexico  and  Central 
America,  and  is  supposed  to  breed  as  far  south  as  Northern 
New  Jersey  and  Western  New  York.  Indeed,  it  is  claimed 
that  the  young  have  been  found  in  the  nest  in  the  latter 
district;  and  there  is  good  evidence  that  it  breeds  among 
the  most  elevated  forests  throughout  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
as  also  northward  through  the  Maritime  Provinces  and 
Labrador. 

The  nest  and  eggs  of  this  species,  however,  are  a  great 
rarity.  The  only  clear  account  of  them  is  furnished  by  W. 
E.  D.  Scott,  who  found  them  at  Twin  Lakes,  Col.,  June 
21st,  1878,  the  nest  being  in  a  low  branch  of  a  pine  tree. 
"On  the  25th,"  he  writes,  "I  took  this  nest,  containing  five 
fresh  eggs.  It  was  built  at  the  very  extremity  of  the  limb, 
and  was  partially  pensile,  though  the  bottom  rested  on  some 
of  the  leaves  just  below.  Like  most  nests  of  this  region,  it 
was  composed  in  part  of  sage  brush,  but  as  only  the  smallest 
twigs  were  used,  the  entire  structure  is  exceedingly  soft  and 
delicate.  It  is  very  bulky  in  proportion  to  the  bird,  and 
very  deep.  Inside  it  is  lined  with  fine  grasses  and  a  few 
feathers.  The  dimensions,  as  follows,  will  give  an  idea  of 
the  size  external  and  internal:  Outside — four  inches  deep, 
three  inches  in  diameter  at  top,  and  but  little  smaller  at 
bottom;  inside — three  inches  deep,  two  inches  in  diameter 

*  It  may  be  that  the  female  will  yet  be  proven  to  be  without  the  ruby  crown. 


504  THE  PILE  A  TED    WOODPECKER. 

at  top,  and  narrowing  a  very  little.  The  eggs,  which  are 
large  in  proportion  to  the  bird,  are  a  delicate  cream-color 
before  being  blown,  and  white  after." 

Cuvier's  Kinglet,  Audubon  gave  on  the  authority  of  one 
specimen  from  near  the  Schuylkill;  and  as  it  has  never 
been  duplicated,  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  some  peculiar 
specimen  of  the  Golden-crown.  A  peculiar  structural  mark 
of  the  Kinglets  is  the  booted  tarsus. 

THE    PILEATED    WOODPECKER. 

In  the  dense  evergreen  forests  of  Nova  Scotia,  visited  only 
by  the  lumberman  or  the  hunter,  may  be  found  that  giant 
of  his  race,  the  Pileated  Woodpecker,  or  Logcock,  or  Black 
Woodcock  (Hylotomus pileatus) .  Some  18  or  19  inches  long, 
and  28  in  extent,  supporting  himself  against  the  tree  with 
a  tail  6  inches  long,  the  huge  form  is  brownish-black;  chin, 
stripe  under  the  eyes,  down  the  sides  of  the  neck,  and  ex- 
panding under  the  wings,  also  a  large  patch  at  the  base  of 
the  primaries,  white.  In  the  male,  the  head  and  pointed 
crest,  and  moustaches  from  the  lower  mandible,  bright 
scarlet;  bill  and  feet,  bluish-gray;  iris,  yellow.  The  female 
has  simply  the  crest  scarlet.  In  flight,  the  white  in  the  pri- 
maries is  especially  conspicuous. 

The  loud  hammering  of  this  large  and  vigorous  bird  on  the 
sonorous  dried  trees,  compared  with  which  the  tapping  of 
the  smaller  species  is  but  a  weak  noise,  very  soon  becomes 
familiar  to  the  ear  of  the  woodman;  and  may  designate 
the  bird  at  a  long  distance.  The  old  adage,  "  A  workman 
is  known  by  his  chips,"  certainly  affirms  much  for  the  in- 
dustry of  this  bird.  In  his  search  for  insects,  for  which  he 
attacks  the  dead  and  dying  trees,  he  will  denude  great 
spaces  of  the  trunk  and  larger  branches  in  a  short  time, 
heaping  up  the  chips  and  strips  of  bark  on  the  ground  in 


THE  PILE  A  TED    WOODPECKER.  505 

an  astonishing  manner.  Very  useful,  indeed,  must  this  bird 
be  in  preserving  our  primeval  forests  from  the  ravages  of 
insects.  Whether  one  notes  his  strong,  undulating  flight, 
his  elastic  bounding  and  springing  along  the  trunks  of  the 
trees,  the  effective  chiseling  of  his  powerful  bill,  or  his  sono- 
rous cackling,  one  is  particularly  impressed  with  the  spirit 
and  immense  energy  of  the  bird. 

The  natural  habitat  of  the  Pileated  Woodpecker  is  the 
wooded  regions  of  all  North  America,  but  in  the  slightly 
wooded  prairie  regions,  it  is  but  rare  or  casual;  and  in  the 
more  cultivated  parts,  it  disappears,  like  the  North  American 
Indian,  before  the  onward  move  of  civilization.  In  Western 
New  York,  where  it  was  once  abundant,  it  is  now  of  but 
rare  occurrence.  Its  eggs  were  taken,  however,  about  a 
year  ago  (1882),  in  a  wooded  tract  near  the  large  park  of 
the  city  of  Buffalo.  About  1.25X1.00,  they  are  small  for 
the  size  of  the  bird.  The  species  is  very  shy  and  wary, 
keeping  for  the  most  part  to  the  tall  tree-tops,  and  making 
off  on  the  slightest  disturbance  or  alarm. 

Just  here,  association  of  ideas  brings  forward  a  species 
closely  allied  to  the  above,  the  Ivory-billed  Woodpecker 
(Campephilus principalis).  Inhabiting  the  South  Atlantic  and 
Gulf  States,  its  huge  form,  bright  colors,  loud  notes,  and 
the  immense  piles  of  bark-chips  that  mark  the  sites  of  his 
work,  in  search  of  insects  in  dead  and  decaying  trees,  are 
the  constant  accompaniments  of  the  great  pine  forests  of 
that  region.  Some  21  inches  long,  it  is  even  larger  than 
the  above  species;  and  its  white  ivory-colored  bill,  white 
secondaries,  scapulars,  forehead,  lines  down  the  back,  and 
spots  in  the  primaries,  as  well  as  the  deeper  and  more 
glossy  black  of  the  body  generally — differentiate  it  clearly 
in  color.  Its  clear  white  eggs  are  very  large,  "  as  large  as 
a  pullet's,  and  equally  thick  at  both  ends." 


506  THE    YELLOW-BELLIED    WOODPECKER. 

THE    YELLOW-BELLIED    WOODPECKER. 

Very  common  in  Nova  Scotia,  as  also  in  Northern  New 
England  and  Northern  New  York,  is  the  Yellow-bellied 
Woodpecker  (Sphyrapicus  varius).  Some  8.50  long  and  15.25 
in  extent,  the  general  color  is  black,  with  small  white 
markings  nearly  throughout;  the  crown  and  throat  are  red, 
the  latter  white  in  the  female;  the  white  belly,  with  fine 
arrow  heads  of  black  along  the  sides,  is  tinged  with  lemon- 
yellow,  and  the  white  stripes  on  the  sides  of  the  head 
are  often  tinged  with  yellow.  This  species  has  some 
peculiarities,  both  in  structure  and  habit.  The  tongue  is 
shorter  and  less  extensile  than  in  the  rest  of  its  kind;  it  also 
lacks  acuteness  and  hardness,  and  is  bushy  at  the  end. 
The  species  is,  moreover,  migratory,  thus  differing  from 
most  Woodpeckers.  It  has  a  noted  habit  of  puncturing  the 
bark  of  living  trees,  in  patches,  while  the  sap  is  flowing, 
thus  tending  to  injure  the  tree.  These  wounds  it  continues 
to  visit  afterwards,  perhaps  to  drink  the  sap,  but  more 
especially  to  capture  the  insects  which  gather  about  it.  It 
passes  through  Western  New  York,  from  the  middle  of 
April  into  May.  There  is  nothing  peculiar  in  the  nesting  of 
this  species,  the  eggs  being  about  .90  X  .75. 

Another  species  not  altogether  uncommon  in  Nova  Scotia 
is  the  Banded  Three-toed  Woodpecker  (Picoides  americanus}. 
Some  9.25  in  length  and  15.25  in  extent,  the  upper  parts  of 
this  species  is  deep,  glossy  black;  maxillary  line,  line  from 
base  of  bill  down  sides  of  neck,  mark  back  of  eye,  spots  in 
wings,  interrupted  band  down  the  back,  and  outer  tail  feath- 
ers, white;  under  parts  the  same,  with  bars  of  black  on 
sides;  yellow  patch  on  the  top  of  the  head;  base  of  the 
lower  mandible  and  the  feet,  bluish.  Female  similar,  lack- 
ing the  yellow  spot  on  the  head,  which  is  slightly  spotted 
with  white.  Exceptionally  to  the  rest  of  the  Woodpeckers, 


THE   GOSHAWK.  507 

this  and  the  following  species  have  but  three  toes;  yet  the 
one  hind  toe  seems  to  be  as  good  as  two,  for  these  birds 
move  along  the  bark  of  the  trees  about  as  readily  as  the 
rest  of  the  family.  Dr.  C.  Hart  Merriam  records  a  nest  with 
eggs,  from  the  eastern  border  of  Lewis  Co.,  N.  Y.  It  was  in  a 
spruce  tree,  about  8  feet  from  the  ground,  the  cavity  being 
some  10  inches  deep.  "  The  eggs  are  cream- white,  and  of  a 
texture  like  those  of  other  Woodpeckers.  They  are  strongly 
ovate  in  outline  (the  largest  diameter  being  near  the  large 
end),  and  measure  respectively  23. 8  X  17.2  m.  m.,  23.6X17.8 
m.  m.,  23.8X17.9  m.  m.,  and  23  X  17.8  m.  m."  This  species 
resides  from  Northern -New  York  and  Northern  New  Eng- 
land to  the  arctics.  It  does  not  appear  to  be  numerous,  how- 
ever, at  any  point. 

Of  about  the  same  habitat,  only  inclined,  perhaps,  to  wan- 
der further  south  in  winter,  is  the  Black-backed  Woodpecker 
(Picoides  arcticus).  In  size  it  is  about  the  same,  and  also  in 
color,  except  that  it  lacks  the  white  band  on  the  back.  This 
species  is  rather  more  numerous  than  the  former;  and,  like 
it,  has  a  very  rough  rattling  note.  They  keep  strictly  to  the 
deep  forests,  but  do  not  appear  to  be  very  shy. 

THE    GOSHAWK. 

The  Goshawk  (Astur  atricapillus],  or  Blue  Hawk,  as  it  is 
called  there,  breeds  not  uncommonly  in  Nova  Scotia. 
Female,  some  23.00  in  length,  and  45.00  in  extent;  male, 
some  21.00  in  length,  and  41.00  in  extent.  In  color  the 
sexes  are  quite  similar;  bluish-ash  above,  the  feathers  cen- 
trally lined  and  edged  with  sooty-brown;  wings  very  dark, 
outer  webs  of  secondaries,  and  somewhat  in  the  primaries, 
bluish-ash;  inner  webs  of  the  primaries,  and  in  parts  of  the 
secondaries,  broadly  barred  with  whitish;  tail  barred  with 
spots  of  dark-brown  and  edged  with  white;  uniform  bluish- 


508  THE   GOSHAWK. 

white  beneath,  every  feather  streaked  in  the  center  and 
barred  irregularly  with  slaty;  top  of  the  head  and  line  back 
of  the  eye,  black;  eye-brow,  and  concealed  patch  on  the 
back  of  the  head,  white;  iris,  reddish  orange. 

In  full  plumage,  with  its  fine  uniform  upper  parts,  and  its 
delicately  penciled  under  parts,  this  is  about  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  our  Hawks.  Swift  in  flight,  arboreal  in  its 
habits,  very  expert  in  winding  its  rapid  course  among  the 
trees,  and  able  to  turn  about  almost  instantly,  it  captures 
squirrels,  rabbits  and  grouse  with  the  utmost  ease. 
Indeed,  the  capture  of  the  last  is  so  characteristic,  that  in 
some  parts  of  New  England  this  species  is  known  as  the 
Partridge  Hawk.  It  may  skirt  the  fields  in  search  of  the 
smaller  birds;  may  follow  the  water-courses  in  pursuit  of 
the  Ducks,  making  even  the  Mallard  its  prey;  or  it  may 
come,  rarely,  even  into  the  farm-yard,  at  the  peril  of  the 
common  poultry. 

Audubon  relates  an  interesting  instance  which  he  wit- 
nessed on  one  of  our  great  rivers,  of  the  chase  of  a  flock  of 
Crow  Blackbirds,  by  this  species:  "  The  Hawk  approached 
them  with  the  swiftness  of  an  arrow,  when  the  Blackbirds 
rushed  together  so  closely  that  the  flock  looked  l-ike  a  dusky 
ball  passing  through  the  air.  On  reaching  the  mass,  he, 
with  the  greatest  ease,  seized  first  one,  then  another,  and 
another,  giving  each  a  squeeze  with  his  talons,  and  suffering 
it  to  drop  upon  the  water.  In  this  manner  he  had  procured 
four  or  five  before  the  poor  birds  reached  the  woods,  into 
which  they  instantly  plunged,  when  he  gave  up  the  chase, 
swept  over  the  water  in  graceful  curves,  and  picked  up  the 
fruits  of  his  industry,  carrying  each  bird  singly  to  the  shore. 
Reader,  is  this  instinct  or  reason  ? " 

Its  nest,  placed  in  tall  trees,  built  of  sticks  and  weeds 
and  lined  with  grasses  and  bark-fibers,  contains  some  3-4 


THE   GOSHA  WK.  509 

eggs,  "  rather  spherical  in  shape,  of  a  bluish-white  color, 
either  immaculate  or  finely  mottled  with  pale  reddish- 
brown;  the  size  2.30X1.82-2.32X1.92."  (Maynard.)  An 
egg  in  my  possession  taken  in  Lunenburg  County,  Nova 
Scotia,  is  2.25X1.75,  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a  common 
hen's  egg,  bluish-white,  slightly  smirched  all  over  with  pale 
dirty-brown. 

Audubon  reports  a  nest  from  the  gorge  of  Niagara 
River  and  the  great  pine  forests  of  Pennsylvania;  but  at 
present  its  breeding  habitat  does  not  appear  to  extend  far 
south  of  Northern  New  England.  In  winter  it  roams,  more 
or  less  commonly,  throughout  the  Middle  States,  and  may 
stray  even  into  the  south. 

Whether  the  Great  Gray  Owl  (Strix  cinered),  more  boreal 
even  than  the  Snowy  Owl,  breeds  as  far  south  as  Nova  Scotia, 
has  not  yet  been  determined ;  but  as  it  is  an  occasional  migrant 
into  New  England,  having  been  taken  once  at  least  as  far 
south  as  Connecticut,  and  is  supposed  to  breed  possibly  in 
Northern  Maine,  its  nidification  in  Nova  Scotia  may  at  least 
be  conjectured.  This  gigantic  bird  seems  to  be  a  stranger 
to  observers  of  every  locality.  Even  my  excellent  Hudson's 
Bay  correspondent  simply  records  him  as  a  resident,  with- 
out note  or  comment.  Without  any  further  information, 
therefore,  of  vocal  capacity  and  habits,  or  diet,  or  nidifica- 
tion, we  may  presume  that  in  all  respects  he  is  exceedingly 
owlish,  and  in  every  way  worthy  to  be  the  giant  of  his 
race. 

Having  no  specimens  at  hand,  I  copy  a  description  from 
Mr.  Maynard,  who  is  always  very  accurate  in  such  matters: 
"  Form,  robust;  size,  very  large;  sternum,  stout;  the  mar- 
ginal indentations  are  quite  deep;  tongue,  thick  and  fleshy, 
horny  at  the  tip,  which  is  rounded  and  slightly  bifid. 


510  THE   GOSHAWK. 

Color  —  adult — above,  including  rump  and  upper  tail 
coverts,  sooty-brown,  mottled  and  transversely  banded  with 
ashy-white;  wings  and  tail,  dusky-brown,  transversely 
banded  with  ashy-white;  under  parts,  including  under 
wing  and  tail  coverts,  ashy-white,  longitudinally  streaked 
with  sooty-brown,  the  streakings  being  more  numerous  on 
the  breast,  with  transverse  bands  of  the  same  color  on  the 
abdomen  and  under  tail  coverts.  The  face  is  grayish, 
barred  with  dusky,  and  the  eyes  are  nearly  surrounded  by 
a  ring  of  the  same  dark  color." 

Similar  to  the  above,  in  form  and  general  appearance,  is 
the  Barred  Owl  (Strix  nebulosd).  About  18.00  long  and 
40.00  in  extent,  the  upper  parts  are  brown,  barred  with 
white  and  tinged  with  reddish;  the  lower  parts,  which  are 
lighter,  have  the  markings  crosswise  on  the  breast,  and 
lengthwise  or  barred  below.  This  hooting  species,  inclining 
to  disappear  with  the  breaking  up  of  the  large  tracts  of 
forest,  seems  rare  in  Western  New  York.  It  is  quite  com- 
mon in  New  England,  and  to  the  eastward  generally,  from 
Newfoundland  to  Florida.  The  nests  are  in  a  hollow  or 
crotch  of  a  tree,  the  white  egg  being  about  2.00X1.70. 

It  may  be  proper  to  mention  Richardson's  Owl  (Nyctale 
tengmalmi)  in  this  connection.  As  an  occasional  migrant 
into  New  England,  like  the  former,  having  been  taken  once 
even  in  Connecticut,  being  reported  by  Mr.  M.  Chamber- 
lain as  taken  in  New  Brunswick  in  August,  and  its  nest 
having  been  found  by  Mr.  Perham  in  the  Magdalen  Islands, 
we  may  fairly  suppose  that  it  breeds  in  Nova  Scotia.  Mr. 
J.  Matthew  Jones,  of  Halifax,  some  time  since,  reported 
it  as  found  in  the  province.  This  is  one  of  our  smaller  and 
most  hyperborean  Owls.  "Above,  olivaceous  chocolate- 
brown,  spotted  with  white;  beneath,  white,  spotted  and 
streaked,  and  streaked  with  a  brown  similar  to  the  back,  but 


BICKNELL'S   THRUSH.  511 

a  little  darker;  disk,  white;  a  white  spot  between  bill  and 
eye;  wings  and  tail  with  white  spots  on  both  webs,  the  latter 
with  from  8-10  pairs;  bill,  light  yellow;  iris,  yellow;  tarsus 
feathered;  *  *  *  length,  10.00;  extent,  21.00-23.00; 
wing,  7.25;  tail,  4.50."  (Stearns.) 

The  nest,  found  in  the  Magdalen  Islands  June  13th,  by 
Mr.  Perham,  "was  placed  in  a  hole  of  a  dead  birch  tree 
not  far  from  the  ground,  and  contained  four  young  and  one 
addled  egg."  Eggs,  four  to  five,  rather  spherical,  pure 
white,  very  smooth;  dimensions,  1.06X1.28-1.10X1.32.  In 
every  way  this  species  would  seem  to  be  quite  similar  to 
the  Acadian  Owl,  except  that  it  is  notably  larger. 

BICKNELL'S  THRUSH. 

Off  the  southwest  end  of  Nova  Scotia,  opposite  Yarmouth 
and  Shelburne  counties,  are  a  large  number  of  islands — one 
for  every  day  in  the  year,  they  say.  On  leaving  the  harbor 
of  the  city  of  Yarmouth,  off  to  the  westward  and  well  out 
to  sea,  are  Green  Island  and  Gannet  Rock.  Then  come 
the  Tusket  Islands,  many  in  number,  and  of  varied  size, 
form  and  appearance,  some  being  partly  cultivated,  some 
wholly  wooded,  and  the  outermost  almost  as  smooth  as  a 
lawn;  these  last  are  called  the  Bold  Tuskets.  Farthest  out 
at  sea,  and  very  nearly  on  an  extended  line  between  the 
two  counties  mentioned,  are  the  Mud  Islands  and  Seal 
Island.  These  are  almost  entirely  covered  with  a  low 
growth  of  evergreens — black  spruce  and  balsam  fir.  Except 
the  Robin,  the  Song  Sparrow,  the  Snow-bird,  and  a  few 
Redstarts  and  Winter  Wrens,  almost  the  only  small  land- 
birds  breeding  here  are  the  Black-poll  Warbler  and  Bick- 
nell's  Thrush — the  last  two  being  very  abundant. 

This  Thrush  (the  Black-poll  I  have  described)  was  wholly 
new  to  me.  My  attention  was  first  arrested  by  its  call,  or 


512  BICKNELL'S    THRUSH. 

alarm  note,  which  sounded  like  cree-e-e-e-eep,  or  quee-a,  or 
cree-e-e-ee,  on  a  rather  high,  fine  key.  It  had  some  resem- 
blance to  the  call  of  Wilson's  Thrush,  but  was  unmistakably 
different;  and  as  Mr.  Brewster  has  noted  (in  Vol.  viii,  p.  12, 
Nuttall  Bulletin),  is  very  particularly  different  from  the 
sharp  liquid  "//^,  or peenk"  of  the  typical  Olive-back.  The 
song  tsiderea,  tstderea,  tstderea,  sometimes  tsiderea,  raz,  tsidrea, 
or  some  other  modulation  of  the  same  theme,  is  similar  in 
tone  to  that  of  Wilson's  Thrush,  but  more  slender  and 
wiry,  and  therefore  not  nearly  so  grand  and  musical.  In 
the  solitude  of  the  evergreen  islands,  however,  it  is  by  no 
means  an  inferior  song,  the  sibilant  strokes  of  the  voice 
being  finely  relieved  by  the  more  prolonged  liquid  vibra- 
tions. A  careful  examination  satisfied  me  that  the  bird 
was  Bicknell's  Thrush  (Turdus  alicice  bicknelli},  lately  iden- 
tified in  the  Catskills  and  in  the  White  Mountains,  and 
named  in  honor  of  its  discoverer.  It  was  so  abundant,  and 
not  particularly  shy,  for  a  Thrush,  that  I  had  the  most 
ample  opportunity  for  the  study  of  its  habits;  and  several 
specimens  were  secured  and  retained.  Next  to  its  lesser 
size,  in  structural  peculiarity,  is  its  slender,  depressed,  and 
finely  carved  bill,  compared  with  which  that  of  the  typical 
Olive-back  seems  thick  and  clumsy.  While  singing,  which 
occurred  throughout  the  day,  but  more  especially  in  the 
evening  twilight  and  early  morning,  the  bird  delighted  to 
perch  in  the  top  of  the  evergreens,  often  on  the  very  tip, 
where  its  bright  brown  figure  with  elevated  head  was  quite 
conspicuous.  On  the  ground,  and  in  taking  its  food,  its 
habits  were  precisely  like  those  of  other  Thrushes. 

To  find  the  nest  of  this  species  was  my  great  desideratum; 
and,  though  the  birds  were  very  numerous,  it  was  by  no 
means  an  easy  task.  Many  an  hour  did  I  thread  my  way 
through  almost  impenetrable  evergreen  thickets,  every  step 


THE  BLACK  GUILLEMOT.  513 

muffled  on  a  dense  carpet  of  moss,  before  I  could  secure  my 
object.  At  last  my  search  was  rewarded  by  nests  in  con- 
siderable numbers,  and  all  as  nearly  alike  in  location,  struct- 
ure and  materials  as  it  is  possible  for  nests  to  be.  A  few 
feet  from  the  ground  and  against  the  trunk  of  an  evergreen 
tree,  it  was  composed,  externally,  of  various  kinds  of  mosses, 
including  a  few  fine  sticks,  weed-stems,  and  rootlets,  and 
was  lined  with  fine  grasses  well  bleached;  so  that,  outside, 
the  nest  was  as  green  as  a  bunch  of  fresh  mosses,  and  the 
inside  was  light-brown.  The  eggs,  some  .87X.63,  are  light 
bluish-green,  specked  with  brown.  About  the  Mud  and  Seal 
Islands,  dense  fogs  prevail  almost  continually  throughout 
the  summer.  This  excessive  moisture,  so  productive  of 
mosses,  causes  the  moss  in  the  walls  of  the  Thrushes'  nests 
to  grow;  hence,  the  nests  of  previous  years,  well  protected 
from  the  weather  by  the  dense  evergreens,  become  elegant 
moss-baskets,  finely  ornamented  within  and  without  with 
the  living  cryptogams.  I  saw  a  number  of  such,  which 
looked  as  if  they  had  grown  in  situ  on  the  trees. 

Some  7.00  or  a  little  less  in  length,  Bicknell's  Thrush,  as 
above  found,  is  uniform  deep  olive-brown  above;  the  sides 
of  the  white  under  parts  being  ashy-gray,  and  the  sides  of 
the  neck  and  the  upper  part  of  the  breast  but  slightly  tinged 
with  buff;  while  the  neck  and  breast-spots  are  not  so  large 
as  in  the  typical  swainsoni.  To  my  eye  the  bird  does  not 
appear  so  large  as  the  rest  of  the  Thrushes. 

THE    BLACK    GUILLEMOT. 

My  first  delight  on  reaching  Seal  Island  was  to  study  out 
the  breeding  of  the  Black  Guillemot  (  Uria  grylle),  or  Sea 
Pigeon,  or  Sea  Widgeon,  as  it  is  called  on  the  Atlantic. 
Along  the  coast,  where  the  rounded  boulders  are  heaped  up 
as  if  by  giant  hands  in  huge  windrows  above  high  water 
83 


514  THE  BLACK  GUILLEMOT. 

mark,  the  eggs  were  hid  away;  and  the  sitting  bird  Was,  for 
the  most  part,  entirely  out  of  sight.  Had  it  not  been  for 
my  genial  friend,  John  Crowell,  and  his  fine  Newfoundland 
dogs,  I  should  have  seen  but  little  of  the  nesting  of  these 
elegant  birds.  As  we  scrambled  along  the  immense  ridge 
of  water-worn  rocks,  now  high  above  the  sea,  the  dogs 
would  every  now  and  then  halt  and  sniff  eagerly  among 
the  boulders.  This  sign  Mr.  C.  understood  full  well,  and 
at  once  he  would  begin  to  roll  away  the  rocks.  Presently 
the  trim,  shy  bird  could  be  seen  covering  her  two  eggs  on 
the  sand  or  pebbles,  and  seemingly  too  much  abashed  to 
make  much  effort  to  get  away.  About  the  size  of  a  small 
hen,  12-15  inches  long,  including  the  neck  and  bill,  beauti- 
fully black,  glossed  with  green  and  purple,  with  a  large  white 
spot  in  the  wing-coverts,  and  webbed  feet  bright  red — this 
is  a  most  beautiful  and  gentle  bird  of  the  sea.  Its  form  is 
something  like  that  of  the  smaller  Grebes  or  Divers.  In 
winter  it  loses  the  bright  red  on  the  feet,  and  becomes 
nearly  white,  merely  retaining  gray  and  dusky  shades  about 
the  upper  parts.  When  perched  on  the  rocks,  it  stands 
almost  upon  end  like  a  bottle;  in  spring  it  has  a  soft 
plaintiff  note,  like  kee-a,  kee-a.  The  flight  is  low  over  the 
water,  straightforward  and  rapid.  Like  the  rest  of  its 
tribe,  it  feeds  on  small  species  of  marine  life.  The  eggs, 
oval  in  form,  2.00-2.38  x  1.24-1.56,  are  delicate  light-green 
or  greenish-white,  specked,  spotted,  and  blotched  all  over, 
but  especially  at  the  large  end,  where  there  is  sometimes  a 
wreath  or  continuous  blotch,  with  dark-brown  or  black,  and 
pale  lilac.  This  species  breeds  from  Grand  Menan  and 
Nova  Scotia  northward,  and  extends  along  the  New  Eng- 
land coast  in  winter. 

The  Common  or  Foolish  Guillemot,   or  Merre    (Lomvia 
troile),  similar  in  form  to  the  latter,  except  that  the  bill  curves 


THE  PUFFIN.  515 

more,  is  thicker,  and  has  the  nostrils  more  covered,  is  16  to 
19  inches  long,  brownish-black  above,  the  head  and  throat 
being  browner;  under  parts,  from  throat  in  summer,  from 
bill  in  winter,  and  in  case' of  young,  white.  This  species 
breeds  in  myriads  on  the  rocky  islands  of  Labrador  and 
northward,  and  used  to  breed  as  far  south  as  Nova  Scotia. 
It  sits  almost  up  on  end  like  a  bottle,  on  a  single  egg  which 
is  laid  on  the  bare  rock.  The  egg,  3. 00-3.50  x  1.96-2.12,  and 
quite  pyriform  in  shape,  varies  from  white  to  dark  green, 
and  though  sometimes  plain,  is  generally  blotched  and 
streaked  in  every  way  with  dark  colors.  This  species  is 
not  nearly  so  common  as  the  next  on  the  New  England 
coast  in  winter,  and  is  also  on  the  Pacific  Coast. 

The  Thick-billed  or  Brunnich's  Guillemot  (L.  arra)  is 
similar  in  form,  color,  habit  and  distribution  to  the  former, 
but  is  always  to  be  distinguished  by  its  thick  bill.  It  is  very 
much  more  common  than  the  former  species  on  the  New 
England  coast  in  winter. 

THE    PUFFIN. 

One  of  the  oddest  birds  of  the  sea  is  the  Puffin  (Prater- 
cula  arcticd),  or  Noddy;  Sea  Parrot,  as  it  is  called  by  the 
Nova  Scotians.  About  13.50  in  length,  short-legged,  web- 
footed,  and  with  a  curiously  formed  bill,  flatly  compressed, 
it  is  blackish  above  and  white  underneath,  the  black  above 
extending  around  the  short  neck  like  a  collar,  and  the  white 
on  the  cheeks  continuing  in  a  narrow  line  around  the  back 
of  the  head,  and  becoming  dusky  at  the  base  of  the  lower 
mandible.  The  tip  of  the  bill  is  red,  streaked  with  yel- 
low and  dusky,  and  the  base  is  blue,  margined  with  red. 
The  callous  at  the  corner  of  the  mouth  is  yellow;  the  eye- 
lids are  pink,  with  blue  appendages;  the  feet  red.  It  bred 
formerly  in  abundance  on  some  of  the  Mud  Islands,  one  of 


516  THE  PUFFIN. 

which — Noddy  Island — is  named  for  it,  and  a  few  breed 
there  still,  as  also  on  the  Machias  Ledge  near  Grand  Menan; 
but  mostly  they  have  been  driven  northward,  where  they 
breed  in  great  numbers.  The  nest  is  a  hole  in  the  bank, 
like  that  of  the  Kingfisher,  only  not  so  deep,  and  contains  one 
egg,  about  2.50X1.75,  somewhat  pointed,  white  or  whitish, 
obscurely  spotted.  In  some  places  the  bird  lays  in  deep 
holes  and  crevices  of  steep,  rocky  ledges.  It  belongs  to  the 
same  family  with  the  Auks,  and  is  found  also  in  the  Old 
World.  Its  food  is  small  crustaceans  principally. 

The  Tufted  Puffin  (F.  cirrata),  an  extremely  northern 
species,  and  belonging  to  the  Pacific  rather  than  to  the 
Atlantic,  and  similar  to  the  last  in  general  form,  is  blackish, 
with  a  white  face,  and  a  long  flowing  bunch  of  loose  yellow 
feathers  on  each  side  of  the  head.  The  bill  and  feet  are 
red,  and  it  is  several  inches  longer  than  the  former.  The 
young  do  not  have  the  yellow  crest. 

The  Razor-billed  Auk  ( Utamania  tor  da]  also  breeds  spar- 
ingly on  the  outlying  rocky  islands  of  Nova  Scotia,  as  on 
the  Devil's  Limb  and  Gannet  Rock.  About  18  inches  long, 
with  pointed-tail  and  flatly-compressed  bill,  this  bird  is 
brownish-black  above  and  white  beneath,  the  black  bill  hav- 
ing a  white  curved  line,  and  the  back  part  of  the  wing  being 
edged  with  white.  The  feet  are  black,  and  the  inside  of  the 
mouth  is  bright  yellow.  The  eggs,  which  are  abundant  in  some 
parts  of  Labrador,  and  are  deposited  singly  "on  the  bare 
rock  of  sea-girt  cliffs,"  are  some  3.00X2.00,  oval,  white,  or 
whitish,  variously  and  heavily  marked  with  dark-brown. 
This  bird  is  common  on  the  New  England  Coast  in  winter. 
Its  food  is  small  crustaceans  and  algee. 

The  Great  Auk  (Alca  impennis),  once  abundant  on  our 
northern  coasts,  and  also  on  the  northern  coast  of  Europe, 
is  now  supposed  to  be  extinct.  Its  presence  was  attested 


THE    COMMON  CORMORANT.  517 

by  the  earlier  observers,  and  its  bones  are  abundant  in  the 
shell  mounds  on  the  New  England  coast. 

The  Sea  Dove,  or  Dovekie  (Alle  nigricans),  a  very  north- 
ern species,  is  common  to  the  coasts  of  Nova  Scotia  in 
winter,  as  it  is  also  to  those  of  New  England.  This  little 
Ice-bird,  as  it  is  called  by  the  fishermen,  but  8.50  long,  with 
head  and  bill  formed  almost  precisely  like  that  of  a  Quail, 
and  with  a  short  pointed  tail,  is  blue-black  above,  white  be- 
neath, the  mature  bird  having  the  throat  and  neck  black  in 
summer,  with  stripes  in  the  scapular,  tips  to  the  secondaries, 
and  spot  over  the  eye,  white.  Several  closely  allied  species 
on  the  Pacific  Coast  are  variously  ornamented  about  the  head 
in  maturity,  as  the  Crested,  the  Whiskered,  and  the  Knob- 
billed  Auks. 

THE    COMMON    CORMORANT. 

On  the  west  side  of  Seal  Island,  and  about  a  mile  out,  is 
a  high  ledge  of  rocks  called  the  Devil's  Limb.  Here  a  few 
of  the  Common  Cormorants,  or  Shags,  as  the  fishermen 
call  them  (Phalacrocorax  carbo^,  still  attempt  to  breed.  The 
rocks  are  thoroughly  white-washed  with  their  excrements, 
and  the  nests,  placed  in  depressions  and  on  shelvings  of 
the  highest  peaks  of  rocks,  are  quite  bulky,  and  constructed 
entirely  of  rock-weed,  with  which  the  ledge  is  heavily  draped 
up  to  high-water  mark.  In  a  pretty  deep  depression  in  the 
center  of  the  pile  of  rock-weeds  are  some  4  eggs,  about 
2. 62x1. 75,  oblong-elliptical,  light  bluish-green,  more  or  less 
besmeared  over  with  a  white,  limy  deposit.  No  matter 
how  long  they  are  cooked,  the  white  of  these  eggs  will  not 
become  opaque.  The  rocky  islands  off  the  coast  of  Labra- 
dor and  Newfoundland,  are  a  favorite  breeding  resort  of 
this  species,  as  also  of  the  Double-crested.  Here  in  the  soli- 
tudes of  tempestuous  waters,  this  Raven  of  the  Sea*  fishes 

*  Cormorant,  or  the  French  Cormoran,  is  supposed  to  be  derived  from  the  Latin  Corvus 
marinas,  or  Sea  Raven. 


518 


THE  COMMON  CORMORANT. 


and  flourishes 
in  i  mmense 
numbers,  with 
less  molesta- 
tion by  man, 
than  do  those 
numerous 
kinds  of  water- 
fowl  whose 
flesh  or  eggs 
are  a  desidera- 
tum. The huge 
rocks,  white- 
washed and 
plastered  with  , 
excrements;  | 
the  dark  piles 
of  sea -weed, 
with  their  com- 
plements  of 
eggs;  the 
noisy  growing 
broods  of 
young  of  vari- 
ous sizes  (these 
young  always 
to  be  associated 
with  decaying 
food  and  other 
filth);  the  im- 
mense dark 
figures  of 
their  parents, 
swarming  in 


THE   COMMON   CORMORANT. 


THE    COMMON   CORMORANT.  519 

clouds  and  filling  the  air  with  their  hoarse  caws  and  croaks — 
these  all  constitute  a  scene  which  must  be  witnessed  in  order 
to  be  appreciated. 

Strongly  characterized  is  this  bird  both  in  form  and 
color.  The  long,  narrow  body  is  greatly  extended  by 
the  long  duck-like  bill  and  neck,  and  by  the  long,  broad, 
fan-shaped  tail,  the  entire  length  being  about  3  feet.  The 
rather  slender  and  terete  bill  much  hooked  at  the  point,  the 
naked  space  about  the  green  eye,  the  white-bordered  yellow 
gula  pouch,  the  crest,  the  pointed  feathers  along  the  wings 
and  back,  the  totipalmated  feet,  the  backward  position  of 
the  legs  making  it  stand  upright  like  the  Grebes,  and  the 
use  it  makes  of  its  tail  in  bracing  itself  like  a  tripod,  or  in 
supporting  itself  in  woodpecker-style  as  it  climbs  over 
rocks  and  bushes — all  these  give  it  an  individuality  in  form 
which  appeals  strikingly  to  the  eye.  No  less  striking  is  the 
peculiar  and  rich  attire  of  this  species.  Such  lustrous 
black,  such  iridescence  of  violet-purple  and  green,  with 
dark  borders  to  the  pointed  feathers  of  copper  and  bronze- 
gray  of  the  wings  and  back,  would  seem  to  indicate  the 
tropics  rather  than  the  cold  fogs  of  the  north.  This  mag- 
nificent dark  array  is  still  further  set  off  in  summer  by  a 
white  patch  on  the  flank,  and  numerous  long,  filamentous 
white  plumes  on  the  head  and  neck.  There  are  some 
peculiarities  in  the  skeleton  of  this  bird,  as  "  the  long,  bony 
style  in  the  nape,"  and  the  palate  bones  being  not  only 
united,  "  but  sending  down  a  keel  along  their  line  of  union;" 
also  "the  interorbital  septum  is  very  defective."  Though 
awkward  on  land,  the  Cormorant  is  perfectly  at  home  in 
the  air  and  on  the  water.  Its  flight  is  firm  and  grand; 
and  diving  from  the  surface  of  the  water  for  its  prey, 
it  uses  its  wings  as  well  as  its  feet  in  the  submerged  pur- 
suit, being  capable  of  remaining  under  the  water  for  some 
time.  It  is  a  most  voracious  eater,  its  diet  consisting  of  fish 


520  THE   COMMON  CORMORANT. 

of  all  kinds.  In  winter  this  species  strays  southward  along 
the  coast  as  far  as  Maryland.  The  Double-crested  Cormo- 
rant (Phalacrocorax  dilophus)  has  about  the  same  range  as 
the  former,  and  is  even  more  numerous.  About  30-33 
inches  in  length,  it  is  a  little  shorter  and  smaller  every 
way  than  the  former.  In  color  it  is  very  similar,  except 
that  it  has  noticeably  black  shafts  in  the  dark-edged 
feathers  of  the  wings  and  back,  and  it  generally  lacks  the 
white  flank-patch  common  to  the  former  species  in  sum- 
mer. In  form  it  is  well  differentiated,  not  only  by  the 
double  crest  of  curly  black  feathers,  and  of  stray  filamentous 
white  ones  over  the  eyes  and  along  the  sides  of  the  neck, 
in  the  mature  dress  of  summer,  but  by  its  gular  patch, 
straight  edged  behind,  while  in  the  former  it  is  heart- 
shaped,  and  by  its  12  tail-feathers  instead  of  the  14  of  the 
former.  The  young  of  both  species  is  plain  dark  brown, 
paler  or  grayish  below. 

The  Florida  Cormorant  (var.  floridans)  is  simply  a  smaller 
and  more  southern  variety  of  the  Double-crested  species. 
The  bill,  however,  is  as  large  if  not  larger,  and  it  would  seem 
that  the  white  plumes  are  not  developed;  "  Resident  on  the 
Floridan  and  Gulf  Coast,  breeding  by  thousands  on  the  man- 
grove bushes;  in  summer  ranging  up  the  Mississippi  Valley 
to  Ohio,  and  along  the  coast  to  North  Carolina."  (Coues.) 

The  Cormorants  sometimes  stray  quite  a  distance  from 
the  sea  on  the  fresh-water  courses  during  the  migrations. 
They  have  been  taken  on  Niagara  River.* 

*The  manner  in  which  a  certain  species  of  the  Cormorant  (P.  Sznensis)  fishes  for  his 
master  is  well  known.  Buffon  says :  "  They  are  regularly  educated  to  fishing,  as  men 
rear  Spaniels  or  Hawks,  and  one  man  can  easily  manage  a  hundred.  The  fisherman  car- 
ries them  out  into  a  lake,  perched  on  the  gunnel  of  his  boat  ;  where  they  continue 
tranquil,  and  wait  for  his  orders  with  patience.  When  arrived  at  the  proper  place,  on  the 
first  signal,  each  flies  a  different  way  to  fulfill  the  task  assigned  to  it.  It  is  pleasant  on  this 
occasion  to  behold  with  what  sagacity  they  portion  out  the  lake  or  canal  where  they  are  upon 
duty.  They  hunt  about,  they  plunge,  they  rise  a  hundred  times  to  the  surface,  until  they 
have  at  last  found  their  prey.  They  then  seize  it  by  the  middle,  and  carry  it  to  their 
master.  When  the  fish  is  too  large,  they  assist  each  other;  one  seizes  it  by  the  head,  and 
another  by  the  tail,  and  in  this  manner  they  carry  it  to  the  boat  together.  There  the 
boatman  stretches  out  one  of  his  long  oars,  on  which  they  perch,  and,  after  being  de- 
livered of  their  burden,  again  fly  off  to  pursue  their  sport.  When  they  are  wearied,  he  suf- 
fers them  to  rest  awhile  ;  but  they  are  never  fed  until  their  work  is  over." 


THE   GANNET.  521 

THE    GANNET. 

About  seven  miles  out  at  sea  from  Yarmouth,  Nova  Scotia, 
on  Gannet  Rock,  surrounded  by  the  surging  sea  and  acces- 
sible only  after  a  long  calm,  the  Common  Gannet  or  Solan  * 
Goose  (Sula  bassand)  still  breeds  in  considerable  numbers. 
About  31  inches  long,  the  long  bill  is  stout  at  the  base,  taper- 
ing to  a  point,  and  slightly  decurved  at  the  tip,  being  cleft  to 
beyond  the  eyes,  and  having  the  edges  serrate  or  lacerate; 
the  wings  are  long  and  pointed;  the  long,  stiff  tail  is  wedge- 
shaped  and  12-14  feathered;  and  the  feet  are  nearer  to  the 
center  of  the  body  than  is  common  to  the  order.  The  gen- 
eral form  resembles  that  of  a  Goose.  The  color  of  the 
adult  is  white  with  black  primaries,  and  an  amber-yellow 
wash  over  the  head;  lores  and  bill  bluish  or  dusky,  small, 
naked  gular  sack,  and  feet,  blackish,  the  latter  having  the 
front  of  the  tarsus  and  the  toes  greenish.  The  young, 
which  are  white  in  the  down,  become  gray,  with  a  triangular 
white  spot  in  the  tip  of  each  feather,  and  in  England  and 
Scotland  are  taken  in  great  numbers  as  food. 

Spread  out  in  flight,  the.  snowy  Gannet  is  a  grand  figure. 
Its  movement  is  firm  and  steady,  alternately  flapping 
and  sailing. 

Scarcely  can  the  Gull,  the  Buzzard,  or  the  Eagle  cut  finer 
circles  in  the  air,  and  nothing  is  more  characteristic  of  this 
bird  than  its  manner  of  diving  for  food.  It  does  not  drop 
down  upon  the  surface  of  the  water,  after  the  manner  of  the 
Gulls  and  Terns,  nor  does  it  dive  from  the  surface  like  the 
Cormorants  and  so  many  other  birds,  but  pitches  straight 
down,  headforemost,  with  almost  closed  wings,  from  a  con- 
siderable or  even  a  great  height  in  the  air,  shooting  out  of 
sight  with  great  force  amidst  the  spray.  Taking  advantage 
of  this  direct  and  swift  movement,  the  old  countrymen 

*  Solan  is  a  corruption  of  Solent,  the  name  of  the  narrow  sea  between  the  Isle  of  Wight 
and  the  main  land  of  England,  where  this  species  is  common. 


522  THE   GANNET. 

place  a  platform  under  the  surface  of  the  water,  fastening 
herrings  or  other  fishes  over  it,  so  that  the  Gannets  break 
their  necks  in  striking  it,  or  fasten  themselves  by  their  bills 
in  the  wood.  They  are  ready  detectives  and  close  attend- 
ants upon  shoals  of  fish,  and  so  are  of  great  service  in 
directing  the  fishermen.  No  matter  how  high  a  point  in 
the  air  the  Gannet  descends  from,  so  complete  is  the  adjust- 
ment of  his  eye,  in  the  rapid  passage  of  the  distance  to 
the  water,  that  it  seldom  if  ever  fails  to  rise  with  its  prey. 
It  is  also  a  bird  of  select  diet,  disdaining,  unless  sorely 
pressed  by  hunger,  anything  beneath  a  herring  or  mackerel. 

Though  this  short-legged  species  shuffles  along  awk- 
wardly on  the  ground,  it  swims  buoyantly,  aided  by  its 
highly  aerated  body  even  to  the  air-cells  between  the  body 
and  the  skin,  and  by  its  totipalmate  feet,  the  four  long  toes 
being  completely  webbed. 

Every  careful  observer  must  have  noted  a  certain  peculiar 
evolution  of  the  Gannet  in  flight.  When  large  numbers  are 
pursuing  a  shoal  of  fish,  circling  like  kites  over  the  spot, 
they  will  keep  forming  into  a  broad  perpendicular  proces- 
sion downward  into  the  waves,  and  shooting  out  of  the 
water  some  distance  off,  will  sweep  up  again  into  the  mov- 
ing mass,  to  take  their  places  in  due  time  in  the  continu- 
ously moving  column.  The  intersecting  circles,  against  the 
sky,  of  the  immense  moving  multitudes  overhead,  might 
suggest  a  monstrous  snow-storm;  and  no  whirl  of  winder 
water  could  be  grander  or  more  precise  than  this  circulat- 
ing mass  of  spirited  living  beings.  The  same  grand 
evolution  may  be  seen  about  the  bastion-like  rocks 
in  the  wild  ocean,  where  they  breed  in  almost  count- 
less numbers.  Filling  the  air  by  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands,  and  moving  out,  up,  and  back,  they  will  pour 
down  over  the  huge  cliffs  to  the  surging,  roaring  sea, 


THE   CAN  NET.  523 

like  an  immense  living  torrent,  the  stentorious  volume  of 
their  hoarse  croaks  and  screams  becoming  almost  terrific, 
mingling  weirdly  with  the  sound  of  the  waters.  No 
bird  is  more  gregarious  than  the  Gannet,  hence  this  im- 
mense concentration  of  numbers  at  their  principal  breeding 
grounds.  The  bulky  nests,  of  sea-weeds  and  rubbish  gath- 
ered from  the  sea,  are  placed  along  the  shelvings  and  tops 
of  the  rocks  at  regular  distances  and  sometimes  in  peculiar 
order.  Audubon  likened  them  to  rows  of  corn,  and  the 
fishermen  say  they  are  built  like  a  town.  Mr.  Maynard 
thinks  these  regular  distances  are  determined  by  the 
quarrelsome  disposition  of  the  Gannets,  keeping  the  im- 
mense numbers  simply  beyond  fighting  distance.  In  this 
degree  of  proximity,  they  sometimes  cover  large  spaces  of 
ground,  so  that  one  writer  speaks  of  seeing  a  quarter  of  an 
acre  of  Gannets  on  their  nests. 

The  ordinarily  single  egg,  about  3.15X2.00,  oval,  plain 
greenish-blue,  and  encrusted  with  a  lime  deposit,  appears 
to  be  incubated  by  both  sexes,  they  being,  however,  indis- 
tinguishable in  color.  They  are  not  easily  driven  from  the 
nest,  and  on  being  disturbed  will  disgorge  their  undigested 
food.  The  young  are  said  to  take  with  their  pointed-like 
bills  the  partially  digested  food  from  the  open  throats  of  the 
parents. 

Diving  fiercely  at  other  birds  which  may  come  in  their 
way,  the  Gannets,  also,  fight  furiously  among  themselves, 
will  clasp  each  other  by  the  bill,  and  roll  down  the  heights 
into  the  sea,  all  unconscious  of  everything  around  them. 

Gannet  Rock,  near  Yarmouth,  and  another  Gannet  Rock, 
near  Grand  Menan,  are  the  most  southern  breeding  resorts 
known;  while  Bird  Rock,  near  the  Magdalen  Islands,  and 
the  Island  of  Bonaventure,  near  Gaspe,  are  the  principal 
breeding  grounds  in  the  north.  In  winter  the  birds  are 


524  THE  PIPING  PLOVER. 

common  along  the  coasts  of  New  England,  and  may  stray 
even  to  the  Gulf.  The  species  is  common  also  to  Europe, 
breeding  in  great  numbers  about  the  Hebrides. 

THE    PIPING    PLOVER. 

In  suitable  places  on  Mud  and  Seal  Islands,  as  also  at  some 
other  points  along  the  shores  of  the  province,  the  Piping 
Plover  (/Egialites  melodus)  is  a  summer  resident  in  small  num- 
bers. It  seems  entirely  to  avoid  rocks  and  mud,  and  never 
leaves  the  sea  for  even  the  most  inviting  shores  of  our  great 
rivers.  Clean  sand-beaches  of  the  ocean  are  its  chosen  resort. 
Here  it  attracts  attention  both  by  its  appearance  and  by  its 
voice.  Of  all  our  little  shore  birds,  this  is,  perhaps,  the 
most  graceful  and  rapid  runner;  its  tiny  feet  spinning  along 
the  sand,  and  its  light-colored  body  shooting  on  in  a  straight 
line,  so  that  its  form  becomes  lost  to  the  eye,  and  only  a 
gliding  white  spot  is  visible — as  the  observers  along  the 
shore  say — "like  a  snow-ball  rolling  on  the  sand."  The 
Waders,  as  a  class,  are  distinguished  by  their  whistling 
notes;  hence  the  hunter,  imitating  the  voice  peculiar  to  each, 
"  whistles  them  down,"  as  it  is  said.  The  Piping  Plover, 
however,  cannot  be  called  a  "  whistler,"  nor  even  a  "piper," 
in  an  ordinary  sense.  Its  tone  has  a  particularly  striking 
and  musical  quality.  Queep,  queep,  queep-o,  or  peep,  peep, 
peep-loy  each  syllable  being  uttered  with  a  separate,  distinct, 
and  somewhat  long-drawn  enunciation,  may  imitate  its 
peculiar  melody — the  tone  of  which  is  round,  full,  and 
sweet,  reminding  one  of  a  high  key  on  an  Italian  hand- 
organ,  or  the  hautboy  in  a  church  organ.  It  is  always 
pleasing  to  the  lover  of  nature's  melodies,  and  in  the  still 
air  of  the  evening,  it  is  very  impressive.  As  the  Piping 
Plover  is  abundant  about  the  dunes  along  our  more  south- 
ern Atlantic  Coast,  and  may  be  found  even  to  the  Gulf  of 


THE  PIPING  PLOVER.  5^5 

the  St.  Lawrence,  its  melody  may  be  regarded  as  character- 
istic of  those  shores;  and  strangely  in  contrast  with  the 
harsh,  guttural,  rattling  voices  of  the  sea  fowl  in  general,  it  is 
the  most  melodious  of  all  bird-notes  along  our  ocean. 

About  7.50  long  and  15.50  in  extent,  this  species  ranks 
among  our  smaller  Waders.  In  form,  it  is  distinctly 
a  Plover.  Bill,  orange  at  base  and  black  at  tip  ;  upper 
parts  pale  brownish-ash,  often  almost  ashy-white  ;  under 
parts  neck  and  forehead,  white;  streak  across  the  forehead 
above  the  white,  and  ring  around  the  neck — broader  on  the 
sides,  and  almost  obliterated  above  and  below — black; 
wings  light-brown,  inner  edges  of  the  secondaries  and  outer 
edges  of  the  primaries,  white,  tipped  with  brown;  coverts 
tipped  with  white;  the  nearly  even  tail  is  white  at  base, 
outside  feather  white,  the  next  white  with  a  spot  of  black- 
ish, the  rest  brown;  ring  around  the  full,  black  eye,  yellow; 
legs,  orange;  claws,  black;  under  side  of  wings,  pure  white. 
The  general  appearance  of  the  bird  when  in  motion  is 
almost  white,  and  so  lighter  than  the  sand-beaches  on  which 
it  runs;  but  it  is  scarcely  discernible  thereon  when  it 
is  standing  still.  Its  flight  is  rapid  and  often  prolonged, 
being  performed  both  by  continual  flapping  and  by  gliding. 

The  nest  of  this  bird  is  a  mere  hollow  in  the  sand  on  the 
open  beach.  Sometimes  it  may  be  sheltered  by  the  scanty 
vegetation  found  on  the  sand.  The  4  eggs,  about  1.15X-97, 
are  pointed,  light-brown  or  dark  cream,  distinctly  but  finely 
specked  and  spotted  with  dark-brown  or  black,  there  being 
an  under  marking  of  pale-ash.  On  ordinary  summer  days, 
the  eggs  do  not  need  anything  more  than  the  warmth  of 
the  sun  on  the  sand  to  secure  incubation;  but  in  chilly  or 
wet  weather,  and  at  night,  the  female  adheres  closely  to  the 
nest.  The  male  is  never  far  from  the  nest,  and  should  you 
approach  it,  night  or  day,  he  will  at  once  report  himself  as  its 


526  THE    WILLET. 

brave  defender.  Like  the  young  of  other  Waders,  the  little 
Pipers  are  precocious,  running  as  soon  as  they  are  free  from 
the  shell.  They  are  covered  with  a  gray  down,  mottled  with 
brown,  and  their  soft  notes  at  once  resemble  those  of  the 
parents.  As  is  the  case  with  all  the  little  precoces,  they  are 
ever  on  the  alert  for  any  alarm  note  given  by  the  wary 
parent, .  and  will  squat  so  closely  on  the  sand,  which  they 
resemble  in  color,  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  detect  them. 
The  food  of  the  Piping  Plover  consists  of  small  crusta- 
ceans, and  marine  insects  in  general;  and  being  commonly 
in  good  condition,  its  flesh  is  very  savory.  It  is  found  in 
winter  from  South  Carolina  to  Florida  Keys,  and  is  abund- 
ant at  this  time  in  the  West  India  Islands,  where  a  few 
probably  remain  to  breed. 

THE    WILLET. 

That  large  and  elegant  wader,  the  Willet,  Humility  or 
White- wing  (Totanus  semipalmatus),  breeds  in  the  marshes  of 
the  Chebogue  and  Tusket  Rivers,  in  Yarmouth  County, 
Nova  Scotia.  Mr.  Benjamin  Doan,  of  the  City  of  Yar- 
mouth, had  the  young  in  the  down  from  the  former  locality; 
and  I  was  credibly  informed  that  they  are  quite  common 
in  the  latter. 

This  bird,  which  I  find  occasionally  on  Niagara  River  in 
the  migrations,  is  some  14.50  in  length,  wing  7.50,  tail  2.75, 
bill  2.25.  The  bill  and  feet  are  light  blue,  the  former  dusky 
at  the  tip.  In  its  summer  plumage,  the  head  and  neck  are 
brownish-gray  streaked  with  dusky;  the  upper  part  of  the 
back,  and  the  scapulars,  also  brownish-gray,  the  feathers 
being  centered  or  barred  with  dark-brown;  the  lower  part 
of  the  back,  olivaceous-gray;  wing-coverts  gray,  the  centers 
lined  with  dusky;  the  basal  half  of  the  dusky  primaries  is 
clear  white,  the  white  secondaries  adjoining  making  a  large 


THE    WILLET.  527 

white  patch  in  the  extended  wing;  the  throat,  a  band  over  the 
eye,  the  breast  and  sides  and  tail-coverts,  are  white,  the  sides 
and  tail-coverts  having  bars  or  undulating  lines  of  dusky; 
the  tail,  having  the  central  feathers  a  little  longer,  is  gray, 
becoming  white  on  the  sides,  and  spotted  with  brown  or 
dusky.  In  the  winter  the  upper  parts  are  more  or  less 
marked  with  yellowish-white,  and  the  under  parts  are  finely 
barred  with  brown;  the  axillaries  also  are  brown.  A 
characteristic  feature  of  this  species  is  its  semipalmated 
toes,  enabling  it  to  swim  quite  well  when  it  has  occasion  to 
take  to  the  water.  Indeed,  it  seems  much  more  fond  of  the 
water  than  most  shore-birds,  frequently  wading  up  to  its 
belly,  or  taking  a  plunge-bath  as  it  stands  in  the  water. 
Writers  of  the  best  authority  attest  to  its  alighting  on  the 
branches  of  trees.  Large  and  robust,  it  appears  to  the  very 
best  advantage  in  its  flight,  which  is  firm  and  rapid.  Ordi- 
narily it  is  a  very  noisy  bird,  \\.s  pill-will-willit,  will-willit,pill- 
will-willit,  being  frequent  and  loud,  both  on  the  ground  and 
on  the  wing.  In  the  breeding  time,  however,  it  becomes 
rather  silent,  unless  disturbed;  then  the  neighbors  join  in 
angry  vociferations,  as  they  circle  over  the  head  of  the  in- 
truder. The  bird  has  also  a  soft  and  rather  mournful  note 
while  standing  on  the  ground. 

The  Willet  does  not  belong  to  those  birds  which  make 
their  nests  on  the  open  beach  by  simply  scooping  out  a 
little  hollow  in  the  sand.  It  seeks  the  shelter  of  the  marshes, 
building  quite  a  bulky  nest  in  some  tussock  of  grass;  the 
nest  being  raised,  sometimes,  as  much  as  five  or  six  inches, 
and  composed  of  dried  rushes  and  grasses.  As  it  is  pretty 
well  rimmed  up,  the  four  pyriform  eggs,  lying  with  their 
points  together,  seem  almost  to  stand  on  the  points,  pre- 
senting their  larger  ends  to  the  body  of  the  bird.  The 
eggs,  about  2.00X1.50,  are  brownish  or  greenish  drab,  gen- 


528  THE  PURPLE   SANDPIPER. 

erally  pretty  dark,  but  sometimes  lighter,  pretty  largely  and 
distinctly  spotted  with  dark  brown  and  neutral,  the  mark- 
ings sometimes  forming  a  blotched  and  scrolled  wreath 
around  the  large  end.  The  young  are  gray,  with  dark 
markings. 

The  Willet  is  a  rather  southerly  species,  breeding, 
indeed,  from  the  West  Indies  to  Labrador,  but  being 
much  more  abundant  to  the  south.  Nor  is  it  confined  to 
the  sea-shore,  as  was  formerly  supposed.  Dr.  Coues  says: 
"  I  have  found  it  wherever  I  have  been  in  the  United  States. 
There  were  a  few  on  the  Upper  Rio  Grande  when  I  crossed 
that  river  in  June,  1864,  and  during  the  same  month  I  saw 
many  more  westward,  in  New  Mexico,  especially  along  the 
Zuni  River,  where  I  am  sure  they  were  breeding.  Some 
resided  in  a  marshy  tract  near  Fort  Whipple,  in  Arizona. 
Others  occurred  to  me  in  June  and  July  in  Eastern  Dakota." 
They  are  also  officially  reported  from  the  Northwest  Terri- 
tory, as  "frequent  on  the  borders  of  salt  lakes  and  ponds." 
The  Willet  has  never  been  found,  however,  in  very  high 
latitudes. 

In  respect  to  the  food  of  the  Willet,  it  may  be  said,  once 
for  all,  that  all  the  Waders  feed  on  small  mollusks  and  crus- 
taceans, aquatic  insects,  and  sand-worms. 

THE    PURPLE    SANDPIPER. 

A  common  winter  resident  about  the  rocky  shores  of 
Nova  Scotia,  and  particularly  those  of  outlying  islands,  is 
the  Purple  Sandpiper  (Tringa  marittma).  It  is  especially 
common,  in  flocks  of  considerable  size,  sometimes  as  many 
as  a  hundred,  on  Mud  and  Seal  Islands,  where  they  arrive  in 
December,  and  remain  till  May.  These  Rock  Snipe,  as 
they  are  sometimes  called,  will  crowd  together,  a  whole 
flock  on  a  single  rock,  thus  affording  an  excellent  mark  for 


THE    TERNS.  529 

the  sportsman.  When  flying,  and  also  when  gleaning  their 
food,  they  have  a  fine  whistling  twitter,  which  appeals 
readily  to  the  ear  of  the  trained  hunter. 

About  9.50  long  and  nearly  15.00  in  extent,  this  species  has 
the  head,  neck  and  breast  dusky-gray,  the  feathers  of  the 
latter  tipped  with  white;  wings  and  tail,  dusky;  the  second- 
aries, tertiaries,  and  coverts  of  the  former,  edged  with 
white;  belly,  vent,  and  wing-linings,  white;  back,  dark, 
glossy-purple,  edged  with  gray;  eyes,  dark.  In  this  com- 
plete plumage,  the  bird  is  simply  elegant.  In  winter,  "the 
lower  parts  are  pale  gray,  while  the  upper  have  the  purple 
tints  much  fainter,  the  white  edging  substituted  by  dull 
gray."  (Audubon.) 

The  Purple  Sandpiper,  chiefly  a  bird  of  the  coast,  but 
sometimes  touching  the  Great  Lakes  in  its  winter  tours, 
and  reaching  the  coast  of  the  Middle  States,  breeds  to  the 
far  north.  The  egg  "  is  of  the  usual  pyriform  shape,  and 
measures  about  1.40  by  1.00.  The  ground  is  clay-color, 
shaded  with  olivaceous;  the  markings  are  large,  numerous 
and  distinct,  of  rich  umber-brown  of  different  depths  and 
intensity,  occurring  all  over  the  shell,  but  being  most  nu- 
merous as  well  as  largest  on  the  major  half.  With  these 
spots  are  associated  shell-markings  of  pale  purplish-gray 
and  light  neutral  tint."  (Coues.) 

THE    TERNS. 

Outside  of  Mahone  Bay,  on  the  south  shore  of  Nova 
Scotia,  are  several  islands  of  interest  in  respect  to  orni- 
thology. Flat  Island,  near  Tancook,  is  a  grand  resort  for 
several  species  of  Terns.  It  comprises  about  a  hundred 
acres,  is  clear  of  trees,  and,  as  its  name  implies,  is  compara- 
tively level.  Ledges  of  slate  crop  out  here  and  there,  how- 
ever, forming  low  ridges,  with  marshy  patches  intervening. 
34 


530  THE    TERNS. 

As  one  approaches  the  rocky  shores,  large  numbers  of  Terns 
are  seen  scouring  the  surface  of  the  water  for  food.  Of  all 
the  birds  of  our  northern  seas,  these  are  the  most  elegant 
and  graceful.  Mackerel  Gulls,  the  fishermen  call  them,  but, 
though  nearly  related  to  them,  they  are  no  Gulls  at  all. 
Bearing  a  resemblance  in  almost  every  point  to  these  larger 
and  more  bulky  birds,  they  are  of  a  much  more  slender 
and  delicate  mould.  Small  and  light-bodied,  fork-tailed, 
with  slender  pointed  bill,  long  pointed  wings,  and  small 
webbed  feet,  they  are  the  very  ideal  of  a  swimming  bird  of 
flight.  In  no  respect  are  they  divers,  but  birds  of  the  air, 
which  delight  to  sport  on  the  surface  of  the  waters.  Their 
color,  too,  is  at  once  the  most  chaste  and  elegant.  The  soft 
silvery-gray  of  the  upper  parts  harmonizes  finely  with  the 
sea  and  sky.  The  lighter  tints,  or  white  of  the  under 
parts,  is  pure  as  the  snowy  crests  of  foam;  while  the  crowns 
of  glossy-black,  and  the  bills  and  feet  of  coral-red,  are 
points  of  bright  and  pleasing  contrast.  What  a  powerful 
leverage  in  the  air  have  those  long  pointed  wings,  raising 
the  light  body  several  inches  at  every  stroke,  and  serving  it 
as  a  well-trimmed  sail  before  the  wind.  How  lightly  this 
bird  drops  upon  the  water  for  its  food  of  tiny  fishes, 
being  too  light  and  airy  to  dive  out  of  sight,  and  often 
carrying  its  prey  like  a  toy  for  some  time,  as  if  it  fished  for 
sport  rather  than  from  hunger.  Occasionally  a  group  of 
Terns  will  play  together  with  a  little  fish,  one  seizing  it  in 
the  air  as  another  drops  it,  and  so  passing  it  from  bill  to  bill, 
apparently  for  the  sheer  sport  of  catching  it.  As  the  Tern 
flies  low  over  the  water,  its  downward-pointing  bill  moving 
this  way  and  that,  it  seems  to  be  fishing  in  earnest;  and 
again  it  gyrates  high  in  air,  light,  agile  and  airy  as  a  Swal- 
low, and  so  suggests  the  propriety  of  one  of  its  names — 
the  Sea  Swallow. 


THE    TERNS.  531 

It  is  on  their  breeding  grounds,  however,  that  the  Terns 
may  be  studied  to  the  best  advantage.  As  one  lands  on  Flat 
Island,  the  air  in  every  direction  seems  alive  with  them. 
They  rise  beyond  gun-shot,  the  great  mass  intersecting  their 
snowy  circles  against  the  sky,  and  the  aggregate  of  their 
hoarse  ter-r-r-r-r-r,  ter-r-r-r-r-r,  becoming  almost  deafen- 
ing. As  one  approaches  the  nesting  places,  which  are  here 
and  there  all  over  the  island,  some  will  drop  down  and 
hover  noisily  .only  a  few  yards  above  one's  head.  Then  it 
is  that  the  pure  under  parts,  the  gracefully  spread  tail,  the 
bright  eyes,  and  the  bills  and  feet  of  bright  carmine,  appear 
to  the  best  advantage.  In  all  their  varying  attitudes,  this 
moving  cloud  of  lithe  and  elegant  creatures  is  a  most  pleas- 
ing and  animating  study. 

In  this  dense  moving  mass,  the  species  far  the  most  nu- 
merous is  the  Arctic  Tern  {Sterna  macrurd).  Length,  14.00- 
17.00;  extent,  28.00-30.00;  tail,  5.00-8.00;  bill,  1.20-1.40; 
tarsus,  .50-. 6 7.  This  kind  is  a  little  more  bulky  than  the 
Wilson.  It  is  also  generally  distinguishable  by  its  darker 
under  parts  and  its  bill  of  clear  carmine,  but  is  invariably 
so  by  its  short  tarsus — only  a  half  inch  or  a  little  more.  In 
winter,  and  during  the  second  summer,  the  fore  part  of  the 
crown  is  white,  as  it  is  also  in  the  young  of  the  year  in  its 
mottled  plumage  of  gray  and  brown,  which  was  once  called 
the  Portland  Tern.  The  young  have  the  bill  and  feet  black 
and  the  under  parts  white,  even  into  the  second  summer. 
Habitat:  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  North  America,  generally, 
south  to  the  Middle  States,  and  on  the  Pacific  Coast  to  Cali- 
fornia. Breeds  from  Massachusetts  northward. 

Next  in  number,  but  few  in  comparison  with  the  former, 
as  is  also  the  case  in  all  the  breeding  places  of  the  Terns 
visited  on  the  coasts  of  the  Province,  is  Wilson's,  or  the 
Common  Tern  {Sterna  hirundo).  Length,  some  14.00;  extent, 


632  THE    TERNS. 

about  30.00;  tarsus  .66-87,  and  so,  noticeably  larger  than 
that  of  the  Arctic,  except  in  the  points  noted,  the  two  species 
are  very  similar,  even  to  the  voice.  In  habitat,  however, 
the  Wilson  belongs  to  the  whole  Atlantic  Coast,  breeding 
more  or  less  throughout  its  range.  In  New  England  it 
breeds  the  most  commonly  of  all  its  family.  The  black  cap 
is  retained  during  the  winter,  but  is  more  or  less  imperfect 
in  the  young,  which  are  also  beautifully  mottled  with  gray 
and  light-brown,  with  more  or  less  dusky  on  the  wing  coverts 
and  tail.  As  in  the  young  of  the  former,  the  under  parts 
are  white,  but  the  base  of  the  bill  and  the  feet  are  yellowish. 
I  found  this  species  breeding  in  large  numbers  on  one  of 
the  Western  Islands  in  Georgian  Bay,  and  a  few  laying 
their  eggs  on  the  muskrat  houses  on  St.  Clair  Flats.  I  think 
they  breed  in  the  higher  regions  of  the  Great  Lakes,  gen- 
erally. 

Among  the  flocks  of  Terns  on  Flat  Island,  I  was  not  a 
little  surprised  to  find  a  few  of  the  Roseate  Terns  (Sterna 
paradised).  From  what  I  had  learned  in  the  books,  I  should 
have  scarcely  expected  to  find  this  species  as  far  north  as 
Portland,  Maine.  Even  on  the  wing  it  was  readily  distin- 
guishable from  the  rest  of  its  kind.  Some  12.00-16.00  in 
length,  and  so  a  little  less  than  Wilson's  Tern,  its  tail  is  at 
least  an  inch  longer,  and  its  entire  form  is  more  slender  and 
graceful,  so  much  so  as  to  be  noticeable  even  in  the  distance. 
Other  Terns  appear  almost  clumsy  in  comparison  with  it. 

The  bill  is  black,  except,  perhaps,  a  slight  patch  of  orange 
at  the  base  below;  the  silvery  curtain  above  is  lighter  and 
more  exquisitely  delicate,  even,  than  in  the  rest  of  the  Terns; 
the  black  cap  extends  well  down  the  nape;  the  feet  are  dark 
orange,  and  the  under  parts  are  white,  tinted  throughout, 
even  including  the  tail-coverts,  with  a  delicate  rose,  the 
texture  and  color  of  the  plumage  being  such  as  scarcely  to 


THE    TERNS.  533 

be  rivaled  by  the  most  exquisite  rose-tinted  satin.  The 
newly  shot  specimen  is  simply  charming,  but  the  brightness 
of  the  plumage  is  not  retained  after  death.  Indeed,  all  the 
Terns  seem  to  lose  their  highest  beauty  when  cold,  their 
extreme  delicacy  of  color  being  consistent  only  with  the 
warm  glow  of  life.  A  bird  is  a  highly  specialized  and 
beautiful  object,  especially  the  more  chastely  colored  birds 
of  the  sea ;  but  what  on  the  whole  Atlantic  can  equal  the 
graceful  form — bill  and  crown  of  ebony,  back  of  burnished 
silver,  hoary  dark-tipped  wings,  and  breast  of  blushing  rose 
— of  this  Roseate  Tern  ?  The  more  gorgeous  birds  of  the 
tropics  compare  with  it,  only  as  the  dahlia  and  the  peony 
with  the  rose  and  the  water-nymph.  In  motion  it  is  no  less 
charming,  its  flight  being  peculiarly  airy  and  dashing,  the 
slender  pointed  wings  and  long  forked  tail  being  the  most 
graceful  possible. 

The  note  of  this  Tern  always  advised  me  of  its  presence. 
I  could  not  make  out  the  "  hew-it,  repeated  at  frequent  in- 
tervals," but  only  essentially  the  same  ter-r-r-r-r,  ter-r-r-r-r, 
as  given  by  the  other  Terns,  only  on  a  lower  key  and  in  a 
rougher,  hoarser  tone,  or  occasionally  in  a  much  higher 
tone,  as  if  aspiring  to  a  fine  falsetto.  Muskegat  Island,  near 
Nantucket,  seems  to  be  the  principal  breeding  place  of  this 
species. 

I  did  not  see  Forster's  Tern  (Sterna  forsteri}  in  Nova 
Scotia.  New  England  ornithologists  testify  to  its  rarity 
on  their  coast.  Its  place  of  breeding  is  believed  to  be  in 
the  upper  regions  of  the  Great  Lakes.  Only  a  few  nest, 
like  Wilson's  Terns,  on  the  muskrat-houses  of  St.  Clair  Flats. 
Mr.  Maynard  informs  me  that  they  have  bred  in  large 
numbers  on  Cobb's  Island,  off  the  coast  of  Virginia.  About 
the  size  and  form  of  Wilson's  Tern,  this  species  seems  to  be 
the  counterpart  of  that,  the  under  parts  being  pure  white 


534  THE    TERNS. 

instead  of  drab,  and  the  tail  silvery  instead  of  white,  the 
outer  vane  of  the  long  outer  feathers,  white,  and  the  inner 
darker  Jjhan  the  rest  of  the  tail.  In  the  winter  plumage  it 
is  distinguishable  by  the  disappearing  of  the  black  crown, 
except  a  black  stripe  on  each  side  of  the  head.  Its  note  is 
similar  to  that  of  the  Common  Tern,  but  noticeably  on  a 
lower  key. 

The  nesting  of  the  four  species  of  Terns  above  given  is 
quite  similar,  and  under  certain  circumstances  quite 
variable.  Commonly,  the  nest  is  a  depression  in  the 
ground,  with  a  slight  arrangement  of  dried  grasses.  If  the 
nest  is  in  the  grass,  it  may  be  quite  well  built  up;  if  on  the 
shore,  it  may  be  only  a  slight  hollow  in  the  sand;  or  fine 
pebbles  or  bits  of  slate  may  be  circularly  arranged,  after 
the  manner  of  the  Killdeer;  or  the  egg  or  eggs  may  be  laid 
directly  on  the  green  sward.  The  complete  number  of  eggs 
is  most  commonly  two,  often  one,  sometimes  three.  About 
1.74x  1.13  and  regularly  ovate,  they  are  some  shade  of  light- 
green  or  light-brown,  variously  specked,  spotted  ,and 
blotched  with  dark-brown  and  neutral,  the  markings  pre- 
dominating at  the  large  end. 

In  some  breeding  places  near  the  southwest  end  of  the 
province,  I  could  identify  none  but  the  Arctic  Terns;  and 
so  could  feel  very  well  assured  that  I  was  examining 
nothing  but  Arctic  Terns'  nests;  but  where  several  of  the 
above  species  of  Terns  breed  in  community,  I  do  not  see 
how  the  eggs  and  nests  can  be  specifically  determined, — 
their  similarity  is  so  great,  and  the  birds  invariably  leave 
the  nests  before  one  comes  near  them.  From  eggs  well 
identified,  I  should  think  that  possibly  the  ground-color  of 
the  eggs  of  the  Arctic  tends  rather  to  green,  and  that  of 
the  Wilson  to  brown.  More  than  that  I  could  not  affirm,  as 
to  any  appreciable. difference  in  the  eggs  of  these  two  species. 


THE  LAUGHING   GULL.  535 

The  Caspian  Tern  (Sterna  caspia),  a  much  larger  species 
even  than  the  Royal  Tern  of  the  South  Atlantic,  must  be 
found  on  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia  in  the  migrations,  for  it 
breeds  far  to  the  north,  and  "must  be  considered  a  regular 
visitor  every  season,  and  one  by  no  means  uncommon," 
on  the  New  England  Coast. 

THE    LAUGHING    GULL. 

Amidst  the  clouds  of  Terns  on  Flat  Island  could  be  seen 
some  eight  or  ten  Black-headed  or  Laughing  Gulls  (Larus 
atricilld].  They  generally  arose  from  and  kept  near  a  slaty 
ridge  which  ran  lengthwise  through  the  island,  and  from 
their  greater  size,  more  robust  form,  and  complete  black  or 
dark  plumbous  head,  were  very  conspicuous  among  their 
smaller  and  more  delicately  formed  neighbors.  Its  digni- 
fied, buzzard-like  sailing,  too,  amidst  the  constantly  moving 
wings  around  it,  marked  it  as  a  Gull.  From  the  hoarse 
clatter  of  the  Terns,  one  could  distinguish  its  long-drawn, 
clear  note,  on  a  high  key,  sounding  not  unlike  the  more 
excited  call-note  of  the  Domestic  Goose;  and  every  now 
and  then  it  would  give  its  prolonged,  weird  laughter,  which 
has  given  rise  to  its  common  name.  To  one  who  has  heard 
it,  it  might  be  imitated  by  the  syllables,  hah-ha-ha-ha-ha- 
hah-hah-hah,  all  of  which  are  uttered  on  a  high,  clear  tone, 
the  last  three  or  four  syllables,  and  especially  the  last  one, 
being  drawn  out  with  peculiar  and  prolonged  effect;  the 
whole  sounding  like  the  odd  and  excited  laughter  of  an 
Indian  Squaw,  and  giving  marked  propriety  to  the  name  of 
the  bird.  I  was  much  surprised  to  find  this  so-called 
southern  species  so  far  north.  Mr.  Everett  Smith,  of  Port- 
land, Maine,  had  given  me  no  encouragement  as  to  finding 
it  about  the  coast  of  that  State;  and  Mr.  J.  N.  Clark,  of 
Saybrook,  Conn.,  thought  it  but  an  uncertain  resident  in 


536  THE  LAUGHING   GULL. 

his  district.  How  eager  was  I  to  find  the  nest  of  the 
Laughing  Gull  in  Nova  Scotia.  The  gentleman  who  ac- 
companied me,  though  no  ornithologist,  caught  my  enthu- 
siasm, and  having  a  keen  eye,  and  being  a  natural  hunter, 
he  soon  descried  a  nest  with  two  fresh  eggs.  It  was  quite 
a  nest,  composed  of  weed-stems,  small  sticks  and  dried 
grasses.  The  eggs,  some  2. 20  X  1.60,  were  rather  dark  oliva- 
ceous-brown, almost  the  color  of  a  Loon's  egg,  variously 
spotted  and  blotched  with  dark  brown  and  neutral.  The 
eggs  of  this  species  are  commonly  much  lighter,  resembling 
in  color  and  form  those  of  the  Gulls  and  Terns  generally. 
The  nest  under  consideration  was  placed  on  one  side  of  the 
slaty  ridge  referred  to,  at  its  base,  just  where  a  marshy  flat 
with  low  shrubbery  began.  Indeed,  it  was  under  the  edge  of 
the  first  row  of  alder  bushes. 

The  Laughing  Gull  is  about  18.00  long;  wing,  12.00;  tar- 
sus, 2.00;  middle  toe  and  claw,  1.50;  bill,  1.75;  tip  decurved 
and  pointed;  gonys  prominent  and  sharp;  mantle  clear,  dark 
silvery-gray;  head,  slaty-black;  eye-lids,  white;  first  primary, 
nearly  all  black;  the  black  decreasing  on  the  following 
primaries  to  the  sixth;  the  few  white  tips  small  or  wanting; 
bill  and  feet,  dusky  carmine.  In  winter,  head  white,  with 
grayish  spots  about  head  and  neck;  the  feet  and  bill,  dusky. 
The  young  are  brown  above,  and  grayish  or  whitish  below. 

This  is  particularly  a  bird  of  the  sea-coast,  breeding  but 
sparingly  along  New  England,  but  becoming  more  common 
southward,  and  breeding  in  great  numbers  along  the  South 
Atlantic  States,  and  even  to  the  Bahamas.  When  associated 
in  great  flocks,  and  circling  high  in  air,  their  pure  white 
under  parts,  with  the  head  and  wing-tips  like  black  specks 
against  the  sky,  give  a  peculiarly  novel  and  beautiful  effect; 
while  their  social  nature,  high  grade  of  intelligence,  and 
striking  vocal  imitation  of  human  laughter,  bring  them  near 


LEACH'S  PETREL.  537 

to  our  sympathies — almost  into  communion  with  human 

ideas. 

LEACH'S  PETREL. 

About  five  miles  beyond  Flat  Island,  and  farthest  out  at 
sea  of  all  the  islands  in  this  locality,  is  Green  Island,  as  it 
is  called  in  the  vicinity,  or  Grass  Island,  as  set  down  on  the 


LEACH'S  PETREL. 

maps  and  charts.  Comprising  about  twenty  acres,  it  is  sur- 
rounded by  bluffs  of  rock,  these  being,  no  doubt,  the  out- 
croppings  of  its  solid  foundation.  The  surface  is  a  beauti- 
ful bright  green — an  oasis  in  this  ocean  desert.  The  soil  is 
a  soft,  brown,  vegetable  mould,  appearing  like  bog- turf, 
and  showing  that  the  position  of  the  island  was  once  very 
different — a  swamp,  perhaps,  in  the  midst  of  the  sea.  A 
number  of  islands  along  the  coast  of  the  province  have  this 
appearance,  and  there  are  several  at  different  points  bearing 
the  name — Green  Island.  Having  secured  a  fine  little  sailing 


538  LEACH'S  PETREL. 

yacht  at  Mahone  Bay,  I  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  men 
willing  to  make  the  trip  to  this  island  so  far  out  at  sea,  and 
where  it  is  possible  to  land  only  in  calm  weather.  The 
day  chosen  was  delightful,  the  sea  smooth,  and  the 
wind  so  favorable  that  we  sailed  out  and  back  without 
tacking. 

The'great  desideratum  in  visiting  this  spot  was  the  study 
of  the  breeding  of  the  Petrels,  or  Mother  Carey's  Chickens. 
I  was  not  a  little  surprised  when  one  of  the  company  told 
me  I  could  smell  the  birds  before  we  reached  the  island  if 
the  wind  were  in  the  right  direction.  I  protested  that  he 
was  simply  practicing  a  joke  on  my  credulity,  but  he  seemed 
veritably  in  earnest.  Very  truly,  on  approaching  the  island 
on  the  leeward  side,  and  while  yet  several  rods  distant,  the 
peculiar  musky  odor  of  the  Petrels  was  in  every  breath  of  the 
wind.  The  long  swells  carried  our  small  boat,  towed  out 
for  landing,  well  upon  the  huge  rocks,  where  we  were 
most  cordially  received  by  the  keeper  of  the  light-house 
which  the  government  has  stationed  here.  The  same  Terns 
which  we  found  at  Flat  Island  were  breeding  here,  also,  on 
the  ledges  of  the  rocks,  but  in  moderate  numbers;  and  a 
few  of  the  Puffins,  or  Sea  Parrots  as  they  are  called  here, 
had  found  a  breeding  place  in  the  deep  crevices  of  the  rocks. 
The  Petrels,  however,  were  the  marvel  of  the  place.  Nearly 
every  square  yard  of  turf  was  completely  honey-combed 
with  their  nesting  burrows;  and  everywhere  the  air  was 
laden  with  their  peculiar  odor.  Here  and  there  the  ground 
was  strewn  with  the  wings  and  tails  of  the  birds  which 
had  been  dug  out  and  eaten  by  the  dog  belonging  to  the 
light-house;  the  dog  being  kept  without  feeding,  and  obliged 
to  support  himself  entirely  by  this  enterprise.  The  bur- 
rows of  the  year  were  readily  distinguished  by  their  fresh 
appearance  and  by  the  excavated  dirt  newly  thrown  out. 


LEACITS  PETKEL.  539 

Down  on  hands  and  knees  we  went  to  work,  digging  for 
the  sitting  birds.  The  reddish  mould,  staining  hands  and 
clothing  of  the  operator,  was  quite  mellow;  and  following 
the  sinuous  course  of  the  burrows,  generally  several  feet 
in  length,  the  birds,  each  with  its  single  egg,  were  soon 
brought  to  light.  Occasionally  the  burrow  contained  two 
birds  and  no  egg,  the  pair  probably  cohabiting  previous  to 
incubation.  On  being  unearthed,  the  birds  seemed  per- 
fectly astounded  and  stupid — dazed,  perhaps,  from  having 
the  light  of  day  thus  suddenly  let  in  upon  them.  Some- 
times they  would  sidle  off  the  egg;  often  they  would  per- 
mit themselves  to  be  taken  without  any  effort  to  escape.  If 
thrown  into  the  air  they  would  come  down  again  almost  or 
quite  to  the  ground,  striking  against  any  object  which  might 
happen  to  be  in  their  way.  Only  after  a  few  seconds  could 
they  command  their  wonted  agility  and  swiftness  of  wing. 
Frequently,  if  taken  in  the  hand,  or  flying  against  a  bush 
or  a  stump,  they  would  vomit  the  clear  yellow  oil  from 
which  their  peculiar  odor  arises,  and  which  is  common  to 
the  whole  family  of  Petrels.  This  was  Leach's  Petrel 
(Cymochorea  leucorrhod),  which  breeds  commonly  along  the 
coast  of  Nova  Scotia,  and  also  on  the  northeastern  coast  of 
Maine.  About  Mud  and  Seal  Islands,  N.  S.,  their  nests 
could  be  found  all  through  the  woods — in  the  ground,  in 
rotten  logs  and  stumps,  and  under  the  roots  of  trees. 
About  8.50  in  length,  18.50  in  extent,  with  wing  6.25,  tail 
3.25,  bill  .72,  and  tarsus  1.02,  the  color  is  sooty-brown, 
darkest  on  the  wings  and  tail,  the  wing-coverts  ashy,  and  the 
tail-coverts  white.  About  1.30X-95,  oval,  both  ends  alike, 
the  egg  is  white,  with  a  wreath  of  delicate  light-red  spots 
around  one  end,  the  spots  sometimes  clustering  about  the 
point,  or  the  egg  may  be  pure  white.  As  it  is  laid  on  the 
damp  earth,  or  at  most  on  a  few  rootlets  still  retaining  the 


540  LEACH'S  PETREL. 

red  mould — seldom  on  a  few  dried  grasses — it  is  generally 
quite  soiled. 

On  approaching  the  breeding  grounds  in  day-time,  not  a 
Petrel  is  to  be  seen.  Those  which  are  not  in  their  burrows 
are  far  out  at  sea.  As  night  comes  on  those  in  their  bur- 
rows sally  forth,  and  those  out  at  sea  come  in;  and  where 
they  breed  in  large  numbers,  the  whole  night  long  till  the 
dawn  of  day,  the  air  seems  alive  with  them.  They  hurry- 
skurry  near  the  ground,  and  cut  through  the  air  higher  up, 
passing  and  repassing  each  other,  and  uttering  their  pecul- 
iar twitter,  until  their  clatter  and  noise  become  a  positive 
nuisance.  The  night  is,  indeed,  their  time  of  rendezvous. 

Out  at  sea  their  flight  is  truly  beautiful,  very  much  re- 
sembling that  of  the  Swallow.  But  for  its  conspicuous  white 
spot  on  the  rump,  the  unpracticed  eye  might  easily  mistake 
the  species  fora  Black  Martin.  Tossing  and  dashing  hither 
and  thither,  it  seems  to  toy  and  sport  with  every  breeze.  No 
gale  can  overpower  its  vigorous  flight.  Playing  on  the 
very  crest  of  the  wave,  ever  and  anon  it  will  drop  into  the 
leeward  of  the  heavy  billows,  to  enjoy  the  temporary  calm 
of  those  gorges  and  ravines  of  the  sea.  Noticeable  to  every 
eye  is  its  patting  the  surface  of  the  most  troubled  waters 
with  its  tiny  webbed  feet,  thus,  Peter-like,  walking  on  the 
waves,  and  so  acquiring  its  common  name — Petrel. 

In  day-time  it  is  nowhere  to  be  found  along  the  shore, 
but  miles  out  at  sea  it  is  the  constant  companion  of  the 
fisherman;  sporting  under  the  bow  or  the  stern  of  his  boat, 
gorging  itself  with  bits  of  liver  thrown  overboard,  or  tak- 
ing, perchance,  the  coveted  morsel  even  from  his  hands. 
Great  numbers  accompany  the  fleets  of  fishing  vessels  on 
the  banks.  Ships  at  sea  are  followed  for  great  distances 
by  these  little  creatures  in  search  of  the  bits  thrown  over- 
board by  the  cook . 


THE   SHEARWATER.  541 

Wilson's  Petrel  (Oceanites  oceanus]  has  very  much  the 
same  range  and  about  the  same  habits  as  the  above,  but  is 
not  known  to  breed  so  far  south.  Mr.  Maynard  had  pretty 
good  evidence  of  its  breeding  in  the  Magdalen  Islands, 
though  he  did  not  find  its  nest.  Some  7.25  long,  and  13.30 
in  extent,  it  is  about  1.20  inch  shorter  than  Leach's  Petrel, 
though  its  tail  is  fully  1.75  longer.  Except  the  white  base 
of  the  tail  feathers,  and  the  yellow  centers  of  the  webs  of 
the  feet  of  Wilson's  Petrel,  the  color  of  the  two  species  is 
about  the  same.  Its  legs,  however,  nearly  one-half  longer, 
and  the  long  tail  scarcely  forked,  as  well  as  the  slender  ap- 
pearance of  the  bird  generally,  sufficiently  differentiate  the 
Wilson  to  a  discriminating  eye.  The  egg  is  said  to  be 
some  .82x1.12,  chalky  white,  and  occasionally  spotted  or 
wreathed  with  purplish. 

The  Stormy  Petrel  (Procellaria  pelagicd),  so  well  known 
in  the  north  of  Europe,  to  say  the  least,  is  very  rare  on  our 
coast.  Messrs.  Verrill  and  Boardman  accredit  it  to  Maine, 
and  Audubon  affirmed  it  to  occur  on  the  banks  of  New- 
foundland and  off  the  coast.  Mr.  Maynard,  however,  has 
never  seen  it,  and  the  late  work  on  "  New  England  Bird 
Life,"  by  W.  A.  Stearns,  edited  by  Dr.  Coues,  affords  no 
personal  attestation.  The  color  of  this  species  is  very  simi- 
lar to  that  of  the  two  former,  except  the  white  axillaries  or 
wing-linings,  by  which  it  may  always  be  distinguished.  It 
is  also  noticeably  smaller,  being  only  5.75  in  length,  and 
13.50  in  extent;  and  the  tail  is  rounded. 

THE    SHEARWATER. 

On  reaching  the  coasts  of  Nova  Scotia,  many  inquiries 
were  made  of  me  by  the  seamen  concerning  a  bird  they 
called  the  Hagdon  or  Haglet.  After  keeping  watch  for  it 
several  weeks,  I  finally  met  it  some  miles  out,  in  a  thick  fog 


542  THE   SHEARWATER. 

and  on  a  rough  sea.  A  large  and  odd  looking  bird,  it 
was  some  20.00  long  and  45.00  in  extent;  the  wings  being 
very  long,  narrow  and  pointed,  the  tail  very  short,  and  the 
general  color  a  brownish-gray,  like  that  of  an  immature 
Gull.  It  was  no  doubt  the  Great  or  Wandering  Shear- 
water (Puffinus  major) ,  in  form  and  habits  strictly  like  the 
Petrels, — a  sort  of  giant  among  his  diminutive  brethren. 
This  was  no  doubt  an  immature  specimen,  as  the  mature 
bird  is  white  underneath,  and,  breeding  far  north,  would 
not  be  likely  to  be  found  in  this  latitude  in  early  summer. 
It  is  common,  however,  on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland  and 
on  the  fishing  grounds  near  Sable  Island,  accompanying 
the  fishing  vessels  in  search  of  the  offal.  In  winter  it  is 
more  or  less  common  off  the  New  England  coast.  Its 
breeding  habits  are  said  to  be  similar  to  those  of  the 
Petrels,  depositing  a  single  white  egg  in  a  burrow  in  the 
ground,  or  in  some  recess  among  the  rocks. 

The  Fulmar  Petrel  (Fulmar us  glacialis],  is  occasionally 
found  off  the  coast  of  New  England,  and  as  it  breeds  very 
far  to  the  north,  it  must  also  be  an  occasional  visitor  at  least 
off  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia.  Nearly  20.00  in  length,  and 
32.00  in  extent,  it  is  a  large  species  of  its  kind.  Robust, 
back  and  wings  bluish-ash,  primaries  brownish,  head  and 
under  parts  white,  it  bears  a  strong  resemblance  in  color  to 
the  Common  Gull.  The  young  have  also  a  gray  plumage, 
similar  to  that  of  young  Gulls.  The  Fulmar  Petrels  breed 
in  holes  of  rocky  cliffs,  and  feed  their  young,  at  first,  with 
an  oil  which  they  vomit  on  the  slightest  provocation.  The 
one  elliptical,  white  egg  is  some  2.78X2.02. 

Mr.  Stearns  describes  the  Sooty  Shearwater  (Puffinus 
fuliginosus]  as  "  dark  sooty-brown,  blackening  on  the  quills 
and  tail;  paler  and  grayish  below,  usually  with  some  whitish 
on  the  lining  of  the  wings.  *  *  *  Length,  18.00; 


THE  BLACK-BACKED   GULL.  543 

extent,  40.00."  He  reports  it  as  common  off  the  coast  of 
New  England,  where  it  is  known  as  the  "  Black  Hagdon." 
As  its  breeding  place  is  far  to  the  north,  it  must  be  at  least 
a  winter  visitor  off  Nova  Scotia. 

THE    BLACK-BACKED    GULL. 

Among  the  outer  islands  off  Mahone  Bay,  I  occasionally 
saw  the  Great  Black-backed  Gull,  or  Saddle-back  (Larus 
marinus),  flapping  its  immense  wings  most  majestically  just 
above  the  water.  I  am  credibly  informed  by  old  settlers 
that  this  species  used  to  breed  quite  commonly  on  the 
islands  off  the  coast  of  Nova  Scotia  years  ago,  and  I  pre- 
sume a  few  breed  still  on  the  outer  and  less  frequented 
ones,  as  it  does  on  one  island,  at  least,  in  the  Bay  of  Fundy. 
Over  30.00  long,  and  some  65.00  in  extent,  the  black- 
ish slate-colored  curtain  contrasting  strongly  with  the  pure 
white  of  the  other  parts  of  the  body,  this  is  a  most  strongly 
characterized  and  magnificent  bird,  and  is  so  wary  that 
it  is  difficult  to  come  even  within  rifle-range  of  it.  As  is 
the  case  with  the  Gulls  generally,  the  head  and  neck  are 
streaked  with  dusky  in  winter.  The  ashy-gray  young  are 
lighter  than  the  young  of  the  Herring  Gull.  The  nest  is 
on  the  ground  or  on  ledges  of  rock,  pretty  well  piled  up, 
after  the  manner  of  Gulls.  The  bluish  or  brownish-drab 
eggs,  spotted  and  blotched  with  brown  and  neutral,  are 
some  2.97X2.25. 

The  large  and  elegant  Glaucous  Gull  (Larus  glaucus) , 
about  the  same  size  as  the  former,  and  occasionally  found 
in  New  England  in  winter,  is  no  doubt  on  the  coast  of  the 
province  at  that  time.  Its  chaste  figure  of  pure  white,  even 
including  the  primaries,  barely  relieved  by  the  light  pearly- 
blue  mantle,  is  readily  distinguished.  The  young  are 
streaked  and  spotted  with  ashy-brown. 


544  THE  BLACK-BACKED   GULL. 

Of  similar  habitat  with  this  last  is  the  White-winged 
Gull  (Larus  leucopterus}.  Some  24.00  long  and  52.00  in  ex- 
tent, and  precisely  like  the  former  in  color,  it  would  seem 
to  be  simply  a  noticeably  smaller  pattern  of  the  same;  and 
bears  even  a  closer  relation  to  it  than  does  the  Ring-bill  to 
the  Herring  Gull.  The  White-wing  is  so  nearly  the  size 
and  color  of  the  last  as  to  be  distinguishable  from  it  in 
flight  only  by  the  white  primaries.  The  young  are  said  to 
be  "  pale  yellowish-brown  throughout,  faintly  mottled  with 
darker,  and  with  primaries  dusky  at  the  tips." 

Of  course  the  noisy  little  Kittiwake  (Larus  tridactylus) 
must  be  here,  for  it  breeds  as  far  south  as  Bird  Rock,  in  the 
Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  frequents  the  harbors  along  the 
coast  of  New  England  in  winter.  Some  16.50  long  and 
36.50  in  extent,  with  tail  slightly  forked,  and  hind  toe  very 
short,  it  has  the  back  and  entire  wing  dark  ashy-blue,  becom- 
ing lighter  toward  the  black  tips  of  the  primaries.  Remainder 
white;  bill  yellow,  and  feet  black.  Head  and  neck  tinged 
with  ashy-blue  in  winter.  The  young  are  marked  with 
black  on  the  back  of  the  neck,  with  a  line  through  the 
wing,  outer  two-thirds  of  some  four  or  five  primaries,  and 
tip  of  the  tail.  The  nest  is  on  the  rocks.  Eggs,  2.22X1.65, 
yellowish-buff,  with  round  marks  of  brown  or  lilac. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 
NEW    JERSEY    COAST    AND    THE    OSPREY. 

QEVERAL  summer  vacations  spent  around  Sandy  Hook 
O  and  Barnegat  Bay,  on  the  New  Jersey  coast,  left  a  vivid 
impression  on  my  mind  of  that  grand  bird,  the  Osprey,  or 
Fish  Hawk  (Pandion  haliaetus).  About  24.00  long  and 
68.00  in  extent,  in  structure  and  bearing  this  species  is 
much  more  an  Eagle  than  a  Hawk.  Rich  dark-brown  above 
and  white  beneath,  the  tail  is  barred  with  dusky,  the  sides 
of  the  head  are  white,  with  a  dark  band  through  the  eye, 
thus  marking  the  bird  quite  noticeably  even  in  the  distance. 
There  is  a  band  of  light  brown  spots  across  the  breast. 
The  most  differentiating  feature,  however,  of  the  Osprey  is 
the  short,  close  feathers  of  the  legs,  thus  leaving  these 
large,  blue,  round-scaled  members  entirely  without  the  long 
flowing  tufts  so  characteristic  of  the  legs  of  Hawks  and 
Eagles  generally.  The  long,  acuminate,  erectile  feathers  of 
the  crown  and  the  back  of  the  neck  are  especially  graceful. 
The  younger  specimens  have  the  dark  feathers  above  tipped 
or  edged  with  whitish.  Of  world-wide  distribution  in  its 
several  varieties,  our  American  representative  may  be  found 
more  or  less  throughout  the  continent,  but  especially  coast- 
wise. Wintering  in  the  south,  its  vernal  and  autumnal  mi- 
grations along  the  middle  districts  of  the  Atlantic  seem 
singularly  coincident  with  the  equinoxes.  About  the  21st 
of  March,  when  some  of  the  largest  and  most  important 
35 


546  THE   OSPREY. 

shoals  of  fish  arrive  on  these  coasts,  this  well  known  Hawk 
appears  as  a  welcome  herald  to  the  fisherman;  and  about 
the  23d  of  September  it  departs  for  the  south. 

Along  the  New  Jersey  coast  the  bird  is  very  abundant,  its 
flight  over  land  and  sea,  but  especially  over  the. latter,  being 
a  marked  and  beautiful  feature  of  the  landscape.  From 
the  waters  alone  it  derives  its  sustenance.  Though  its  early 
northward  migration,  while  ice  and  snow  may  still  abound, 
render  its  fishing  precarious,  it  is  never  known  to  seek 
any  prey  on  land.  Sailing  with  almost  motionless  wings  in 
grand  easy  circles,  the  great  length  and  peculiar  curvature 
of  the  wings  readily  designating  the  bird  to  the  eye,  its 
constant  search  for  food  would  seem  the  mere  play  and 
poetry  of  motion.  Occasionally  its  circles  in  flight  are  so 
small  that  it  almost  seems,  indeed,  to  be  turning  "in  the 
air  as  on  a  pivot."  Frequently  the  flight  is  low  over  the 
water,  but  it  may  range  to  a  very  considerable  height,  the 
eye  being  keen  enough  to  descry  its  prey  at  the  bird's  great- 
est elevation.  In  the  act  of  capture  it  may  drop  lightly 
on  the  water,  and  almost  pick  up  its  struggling  object  in  a 
gull-like  manner;  or  it  may  shoot  down  from  a  consider- 
able height,  and  fairly  plunging  in  swift  pursuit,  lift  out 
a  fish  of  six  pounds  or  upwards. 

When  several  feet  above  the  water,  it  seems  to  hesitate 
with  a  quivering  motion,  as  if  shaking  off  the  water, 
spaniel-like,  or  perhaps  to  grapple  its  prey  more  firmly;  then, 
moving  off  with  a  vigorous  stroke  and  bearing  its  prey  length- 
wise and  head  foremost,  it  seeks  the  land,  more  commonly 
some  tree,  on  which  to  devour  it.  Not  infrequently  it  may 
hover  with  a  firm  flapping  of  the  wings  in  quest  of  its  object, 
sailing  on  if  disappointed;  and  again  almost  plunging -in 
eager  pursuit,  it  may  still  fail  of  capture,  but  is  never  over- 
excited or  disconcerted,  seeming  to  know  that  there  are 


THE   OSPREY.  547 

plenty  of  fish  in  the  water,  and  those  as  good  as  ever  were 
caught.  Is  not  the  wide  waste  of  waters  at  its  command  ? 
Is  it  not  the  most  skillful  of  fishermen  ?  Why  worry  then 
over  a  mishap  or  failure  !  Even  if  the  Eagle,  on  the  alert, 
swoop  down  upon  it,  and  compel  it  to  drop  its  well-earned 
prey,  it  will  submit  with  comparative  coolness.  This  rob- 
bery by  the  Eagle,  however,  probably  does  not  occur  nearly 
so  often  as  one  might  infer  from  the  books. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Osprey  sometimes  miscalculates 
the  size  and  strength  of  the  fish  he  would  seize,  and  strik- 
ing into  it  his  sharp  and  much  curved  claws,  is  neither  able 
to  raise  the  fish  nor  yet  to  extricate  himself,  and  so  is 
drawn  under  to  perish  with  his  prey  in  his  grasp,  the  rem- 
nants of  both  being  thrown  up  on  the  shore  together;  or 
the  surviving  fish  may  be  afterwards  caught  bearing  the 
skeleton  or  remains  of  the  Hawk  on  its  back. 

The  nest  of  the  Fish  Hawk  is  a  common  appurtenance  of 
the  landscape,  along  the  coast  under  consideration.  No  eye 
can  miss  it,  for  it  is  an  immense  affair,  built  of  sticks, 
coarse  weeds  and  rubbish  in  general,  lined  with  sea-grass, 
the  whole  being  sufficient  in  quantity  to  fill  a  good-sized 
dump-cart.  It  is  placed  in  a  tree  anywhere  from  10-50  feet 
from  the  ground.  If  the  tree  be  not  dead  when  chosen,  it 
does  not  long  survive  the  huge  wet  pile,  generally  containing 
no  small  quantity  of  material  from  the  salt  water;  and  as 
the  bulk  is  increased  by  repairs,  not  only  in  spring  before 
incubation,  but  also  in  the  fall  before  the  birds  depart,  the 
foundations  give  way  in  time,  and  the  unsightly  mass  is 
precipitated  to  the  ground.  I  was  informed  of  one  of  these 
nests  being  built  on  the  top  of  an  old  chimney,  after  the 
manner  of  the  European  Stork.  The  eggs,  generally  3, 
sometimes  2  or  4,  are  about  2.39X1.76,  creamy  white, 
sharply  spotted  and  blotched  with  light-brown  and  umber, 


548  THE  FISH  CROW. 

the  large  end  being  often  covered,  or  occasionally  the 
ground-color  of  the  whole  egg  obscured,  by  the  markings. 
They  are  laid,  in  the  Middle  States,  about  the  first  of  May, 
and  the  young,  covered  at  first  with  a  white  down,  are 
hatched  early  in  June.  They  keep  to  the  nest  till  full- 
grown,  and  are  even  fed  by  the  parents  in  the  air  after 
flight  would  seem  complete. 

THE    FISH    CROW. 

The  nest  being  a  common  resort  of  the  Fish  Hawk 
throughout  the  season,  my  attention  was  one  day  especially 
called  to  an  empty  one  on  which  a  Hawk  was  unusually 
boisterous  over  a  large  fish.  These  birds  are  generally 
noisy  when  on  land,  but  this  time  there  was  a  particular 
significance  to  the  loud  squealing  racket.  A  Fish  Crow 
(Corvus  ossifragus),  readily  known  by  his  hoarse,  guttural 
cawing,  was  perched  near  by  in  the  tree.  Being  also, 
as  his  common  name  implies,  of  piscatorial  appetite,  he  had 
come  to  dispute  the  right  of  the  Hawk  to  the  fish.  How 
saucy  on  the  part  of  this  little  specimen  in  glossy-black  to 
put  in  a  claim  to  the  bill  of  fare  so  well  earned  by  his  stately 
neighbor !  How  undignified  in  the  Osprey  to  utter  one 
querulous  syllable  in  recognition  of  the  sauce-box  ! 

Some  16.00  long  and  24.00  in  extent,  the  Fish  Crow  is 
noticeably  smaller  than  his  larger  brother,  so  well  known 
here  in  the  north.  Also  his  coat  has  a  brighter  gloss,  and 
his  feet  are  proportionally  smaller.  A  bird  of  our  more 
southern  sea-board,  and  found  there  in  great  abundance,  it 
is  more  or  less  common  about  "  the  upper  New  Jersey 
coast,  Long  Island,  lower  Hudson  Valley,  and  the  coast 
line  of  Connecticut,  and  an  occasional  visitor  to  Massa- 
chusetts." Reported  on  good  authority  as  migratory, 
pressing  into  our  southern  coasts  in  great  numbers  on  the 


THE   SEA  SIDE  SPARROW.  549 

approach  of  winter,  it  is  now  well  made  out  by  Mr.  Wm. 
Dutcher  and  others  to  be  a  winter  resident,  even  in  its 
most  northern  habitat.  Probably  while  the  greater  number 
migrate,  some  remain.  This  species  may  be  found  on  rivers 
and  other  bodies  of  water  more  or  less  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  sea.  It  feeds  quite  commonly  on  dead  fish,  but  also 
on  any  garbage  found  about  the  water,  and  is  specially 
fond  of  certain  lizards,  which  swim  with  their  heads  above 
the  water,  and  which  it  captures  alive,  and  it  is  also  a  vora- 
cious devourer  of  the  eggs  of  other  birds,  especially  those  of 
the  water-fowl  breeding  along  or  near  the  sea-coast. 

Its  nidification  is  very  similar  to  that  of  the  Common 
Crow.  Size  of  eggs  some  1.45X1.10. 

THE    SEA-SIDE    SPARROW. 

From  the  sedges  and  the  tall  marsh-grass  near  the  sea,  I 
frequently  heard  the  peculiar  song  of  the  Sea-side  Sparrow 
(Ammodromus  maritimus).  The  melody  has  but  few  notes, 
the  first  several  being  liquid  but  abrupt,  and  the  last  two 
or  three  somewhat  prolonged.  Generally  the  singer  is 
hidden  from  sight,  or  can  barely  be  seen  as  he  swings  in 
the  moving  tops  of  grasses  and  sedges;  but  occasionally  he 
will  toss  himself  up  into  the  air,  after  the  manner  of  the 
Long-billed  Marsh  Wren,  his  song  then  becoming  a 
resonant  twitter.  The  singer  is  always  much  excited, 
ruffling  his  feathers,  spreading  his  tail,  and  shaking 
himself  enthusiastically.  About  5.50  long,  the  bill  is  some- 
what lengthened  and  slender,  the  tail  feathers  short,  narrow 
and  pointed,  the  wings  short  and  rounded,  and  the  feet 
very  large.  The  color  is  olive-gray  above,  streaked  with 
dusky;  beneath,  ashy-white,  clearer  on  the  throat  and 
darker  on  the  sides  and  flanks;  sides  of  the  head  and  rather 
obscure  streaks  below,  dusky;  line  from  the  bill  over  the 


550  THE   SHARP-TAILED   SPARROW. 

crown,  ashy;  spot  over  the  eye  and  shoulder  of  the  wing, 
yellow.  On  the  mud,  among  the  tall  growths  of  the  salt  and 
brackish  marshes,  they  seek  their  food  of  tiny  mollusks  and 
aquatic  insects;  and  the  somewhat  "  gourd-shaped  "  nest, 
with  a  small  opening  on  the  top  or  side,  is  either  on  the 
ground  or  fastened  to  the  coarse  grasses  near  the  ground. 
It  is  composed  of  coarse  grass  and  lined  with  finer,  some- 
times with  fine  rootlets,  and  contains  4-6  dull  white  eggs, 
finely  spotted  and  specked  with  several  shades  of  brown. 
Wintering  in  great  numbers  in  the  salt  marshes  of  the 
Southern  States,  it  breeds  from  the  Gulf  to  Connecticut, 
coming  north  in  April  and  going  south  before  the  ground 
freezes. 

THE    SHARP-TAILED    SPARROW. 

In  similar  situations  and  with  similar  habits  to  those 
given  above,  we  find  another  species  of  this  same  genus, 
the  Sharp- tailed  Sparrow  (Ammodromus  caudacutus).  "  Rather 
smaller  than  the  last,  bill  still  slenderer,  and  tail  feathers 
still  narrower  and  more  acute,"  the  olive-gray  upper  parts 
are  more  sharply  streaked  with  blackish  and  whitish;  instead 
of  the  yellow  spot  above  the  eye,  the  eye-brows  and  cheeks 
are  buffy  or  orange,  and  the  lower  parts  are  white,  with 
breast  and  sides  more  sharply  streaked  with  dusky.  The 
nest  is  on  the  ground,  pretty  much  concealed  with  dry 
grasses,  of  which  it  is  also  composed,  and  they  breed  some- 
what in  community.  The  four  or  five  pale-blue  eggs  .77  X 
.58,  finely  specked  with  reddish,  are  laid  rather  late  in  the 
season.  This  little  Sparrow  is  exceedingly  active,  inhabits 
marshes  farther  from  the  shore  than  does  the  former,  and 
extends  its  summer  residence  farther  north,  being  common 
about  the  coasts  of  Massachusetts  and  even  to  New  Hamp- 
shire. It  has  a  very  poor  voice,  its  song  being  regarded  as 
the  weakest  of  all  the  Sparrows. 


THE  PRAIRIE    WARBLER.  551 

THE    CAROLINA    WREN. 

In  tangled  thickets,  made  almost  impenetrable  by  the 
rank  festoons  of  the  common  srnilax,  I  occasionally  found 
the  Carolina  Wren  (Thryothorus  ludovicianus) .  This  rather 
southern  species,  though  wintering  commonly  in  Virginia, 
scarcely  reaches,  regularly,  a  higher  latitude  than  42°.  Some 
5.75  long,  it  is  noticeably  larger  than  the  rest  of  our  Wrens, 
which  it  resembles  strongly  in  color,  however,  the  most 
differentiating  mark,  in  this  respect,  being  the  yellowish- 
white  eye-brow  extending  down  the  sides  of  the  neck.* 
The  bill  is  considerably  curved.  In  the  extent  and  manner 
of  its  activity  this  species  is  every  whit  a  Wren.  All  ob- 
servers have  been  impressed  with  its  song,  which  is  loud, 
voluble,  melodious,  and  delivered  at  about  all  times  of  the 
year.  The  nest,  generally  in  some  cavity,  often  in  build- 
ings, is  a  hollow  ball,  with  an  entrance  in  the  side,  composed 
outwardly  of  sticks,  leaves,  and  coarse  fibers  generally,  and 
lined  with  fine  fibrous  or  grassy  materials.  The  6  eggs,  .77 
X  .58,  are  creamy-white,  variously  marked  with  reddish- 
brown  and  lilac,  in  a  wreath  or  cluster  at  the  large  end. 

THE    PRAIRIE    WARBLER. 

In  the  pine  groves  of  second  growth  I  occasionally  found 
the  Prairie  Wabler  (Dendrceca  discolor].  This  pretty  little 
species,  only  4.50  long,  is  olive  above,  the  back  being  marked 
with  reddish-chestnut  spots;  sides  of  the  head,  yellow,  with 
lores  and  a  streak  beneath  the  eye,  black;  throat  and  under 
parts  rich  yellow,  with  small  pointed  spots  of  black  down 
the  sides  of  the  neck  and  under  the  wings.  The  female 
lacks  the  black  line  under  the  eye,  and  has  the  chestnut 
spots  on  the  back,  and  the  black  spots  on  the  sides,  less  dis- 
tinct. Breeding  anywhere  from  New  England  to  Key  West, 
it  occupies  the  bushy  pastures  in  the  former  limit  of  its 

*  Florida  affords  a  larger  and  darker  form  of  this  species,  var.  miamensis. 


552  THE  BLACK  TERN. 

habitat,  but  the  "hummocks,"  and  even  the  submerged 
tracts  of  mangroves  in  Florida.  The  song  is  a  unique  trill 
on  an  ascending  scale.  The  nest,  set  in  an  upright  fork  of 
a  bush,  or  tied  to  several  disconnected  shoots,  is  compactly 
formed  of  coarse  bark-shreds  and  weeds  externally,  bedded 
and  lined  with  vegetable  down  and  fine  grasses.  The  3-5 
eggs,  .62  X  52,  ratker  large  for  the  bird,  are  white,  pretty 
heavily  marked  with  light  brown  and  lilac. 

THE    BLACK    TERN. 

Sitting  under  a  screen,  late  in  August,  in  some  secluded 
nook  in  Barnegat  Bay,  every  now  and  then  one  may  be  sur- 
prised by  the  dashing  flight  of  a  flock  of  Black  Terns 
(Hydrochelidon  nigra).  In  spring,  notwithstanding  the  gray 
back,  wings  and  tail,  and  white  crissum,  the  more  conspicu- 
ous sooty  black  of  the  head,  neck  and  under  parts,  fully 
justify  the  common  name;  but  during  the  late  summer  and 
autumn  plumage,  that  name  seems  quite  inappropriate,  for 
then,  except  the  dusky  back  of  the  head,  and  the  ring  around 
the  eye,  the  black  parts  of  the  spring  dress  are  white. 
Though  reaching  the  sea-coast  in  the  migration  of  late 
summer,  this  Tern,  unlike  the  rest  of  its  family,  is  not  a 
bird  of  the  sea-side,  but  of  the  flooded  marshes  about  our 
lakes  of  the  interior.  I  found  it  breeding  in  great  numbers 
in  June  on  St.  Clair  Flats.  Its  sooty  form,  finely  set  off  by 
its  silvery  wings  and  tail — the  wings  rather  broad  and  the 
tail  but  slightly  forked  for  a  Tern — was  constantly  in  sight, 
as  it  fished  along  the  channels;  and  its  rather  musical  piping 
note  was  in  hearing  almost  night  and  day.  Here  and  there, 
among  the  vegetable  growths  in  the  flooded  marshes,  they 
nested  more  or  less  in  community,  where,  if  an  intruder 
approached,  their  little  breasts  would  be  filled  with  rage, 
their  loud  notes  then  remindingoneof  the  screaming  of  the 
Robins  under  like  circumstances  of  excitement.  The  nest 


THE  BLACK  SKIMMER.  553 

is  a  rude  and  slight  arrangement  of  weather-beaten  and 
partly  decayed  rushes,  placed  on  a  bit  of  floating  slab,  or 
on  one  of  those  compact,  floating  beds  of  debris,  which  be- 
come anchored  in  large  quantity  in  the  bends  of  the  chan- 
nels, or  among  the  sedges.  On  this  water-soaked  affair,  the 
eggs,  1-3,  are  placed,  some  1.32X.95,  varying  from  brown 
to  dark-green  in  color,  spotted  and  blotched  with  several 
shades  of  dark-brown  and  neutral.  Always  dark,  they 
vary  greatly  in  form,  ground-color  and  marking.  This 
Tern,  some  9.50  long,  winters  south  of  the  United  States. 

THE    BLACK    SKIMMER. 

On  Barnegat  Bay,  especially  about  the  inlet,  I  used  to  see 
occasionally  some  half-dozen  Black  Skimmers  (Rhynchops 
nigra),  flying  closely  as  they  skimmed  the  surface  in  search 
of  their  food  of  small  fry.  Length,  17.50;  stretch,  42.00; 
upper  parts  black;  forehead,  tips  of  secondaries,  outer  webs 
of  tail  feathers,  white,  this  species  might  pass  for  a  large 
black  Tern,  were  it  not  for  its  peculiar  bill.  The  lower  man- 
dible, some  4.50  long,  is  as.  flat  as  a  knife  blade,  the  upper 
edge  fitting  into  a  groove  in  the  upper  mandible,  which  is 
about  an  inch  shorter.  With  this  strongly  specialized  mem- 
ber, it  plows  the  surface  of  tfye  water  at  flood-tides,  when 
its  food  is  most  abundant  near  the  surface.  Few  instances, 
even  in  bird-life,  can  furnish  a  more  obvious  evidence  of 
design.  Here  is  a  species  which,  from  the  length  of  its 
wings  and  neck,  the  shape  of  its  bill  and  its  mode  of  flight, 
is  evidently  designed  to  take  its  food  in  a  peculiar  manner 
— by  skimming  or  plowing  the  surface  for  the  small  fry 
which  approach  it  in  flood-tides.  In  Florida,  where  it  is 
found  throughout  the  year,  Mr.  Maynard  reports  it  as 
feeding  mostly  at  night  or  in  cloudy  weather.  Breeding  in 
communities  on  the  sandy  beaches,  as  far  north  as  New 
Jersey,  the  eggs,  2  or  3,  are  placed  in  a  hollow  in  the  sand. 


554  THE  MARBLED   GOD  WIT. 

About  1.75X1.37,  they  are  white,  marked  with  dark  brown 
and  lilac,  the  blotches  being  clear-edged  and  strong,  thus 
readily  differentiating  the  eggs. 

THE    MARBLED    GODWIT. 

Occasionally  during  August,  the  gunners  about  the  bay 
would  take  the  Marbled  God  wit  (Limosa  fcedd).  Length 
18.50,  stretch  31.00,  bill  4.05,  it  is  dark  brown,  variously 
marked  with  reddish-yellow;  the  wings  and  tail  reddish- 
yellow  marked  with  brown;  beneath,  a  fine  light-red,  light- 
est on  the  throat,  and  streaked  and  banded  generally,  ex- 
cept on  the  abdomen,  with  brown.  This  fine  species  is 
readily  recognized  by  its  color,  its  large  size  and  slightly 
upturned  bill.  Though  common  in  winter  from  the  Caro- 
linas  southward,  especially  in  Florida,  it  is  rare  on  the 
Atlantic  Coast  to  the  north  in  summer.  It  is  abundant, 
however,  west  of  the  Mississippi,  breeding  in  great  num- 
bers about  the  ponds  and  shallow  pools  of  Minnesota, 
Dakota  and  the  Northwest  Territory.  The  nest  is  a 
slight  arrangement  of  dried  grass,  in  a  depression  in  the 
ground.  The  eggs,  2-4,  2.22X1.47,  long-oval,  are  creamy 
or  buff,  rather  sparsely  marked  and  blotched  with  light- 
brown  and  neutral.  This  species  is  occasionally  found  on 
the  Niagara  in  the  migrations. 

The  Hudsonian  Godwit  (Limosa  hudsonicd),  breeding  in 
the  arctics  and  wintering  beyond  our  limits,  is  not  uncom- 
mon on  the  Atlantic  Coast  in  the  migrations.  Nearly  15.00 
long,  and  26.50  in  extent,  the  bill  is  but  2.25.  Of  a  general 
resemblance  to  the  former  in  color,  the  white  in  the  wings, 
seen  in  flight,  and  that  of  the  rump  and  in  the  base  of  the 
tail,  strongly  characterize  it,  giving  it  the  name  of  "  Spot- 
rump  "  or  "  Ring-tail,"  among  sportsmen.  The  nest  is  sim- 
ilar to  that  of  the  former,  but  the  eggs,  2.18  X  1.38,  are  dark 
greenish-brown,  lightly  marked  with  dark  brown. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AUTUMNAL    DAYS. 

THIS  twenty-first  day  of  September  (1881)  is  an  ideal 
day  of  that  delightful  month  of  our  clime.  Cloudless 
and  clear,  warm  but  not  hot,  the  air  purified  by  recent 
showers,  every  breath  is  an  aesthetic  inspiration.  Ensconced 
away  among  the  bushes  on  the  south  shore  of  Johnson's 
Creek,  just  opposite  the  point  formed  by  its  oblique  en- 
trance into  Lake  Ontario,  I  am  watching  the  various 
water-birds  as  they  alight,  all  unsuspectingly,  on  that  point. 
The  near  sites  are  within  gun-shot,  and  the  furthest  ones  are 
easily  reconnoitered  with  a  glass.  Supposing  that  you  are, 
my  reader,  in  spirit,  at  my  side,  I  will  try  to  interpret  to 
you  what  we  see.  That  little  Semipalmated  Sandpiper 
(Ereunetes  pusillus) ,  moving  hurriedly  like  a  gray  speck  about 
the  shore,  is  rather  late  in  the  season  for  him.  He  may  re- 
turn to  us  from  his  breeding  grounds,  in  the  high  latitudes 
of  the  north,  as  early  as  the  latter  part  of  July,  and  gener- 
ally is  quite  common  on  all  our  shores  and  water-courses  in 
August.  It  is  quite  out  of  order,  too,  for  this  bird  to  be  thus 
alone,  as  it  is  almost  always  in  flocks,  and  not  infrequently 
in  company  with  its  near  relative,  the  Least  Sandpiper 
(THnga  minutilla).  I  have  seen  it  in  large  flocks  in  the 
month  of  August,  on  Niagara  River,  alighting  on  the  large 
rafts  of  logs  on  their  way  to  the  mills  of  Tonawanda.  It 
is  a  graceful,  active  little  Wader,  reminding  one  somewhat 


556  SEMIPALMATED   SANDPIPER. 

of  the  Spotted  Sandpiper,  only  it  h'as  nothing  of  the  teeter- 
ing motion  of  that  species;  and  its  notes,  tweet-eet,  tweet-eet, 
are  more  of  a  soft,  subdued  whistle,  giving  the  bird  a  much 
quieter  and  less  demonstrative  appearance. 

Some  6.00  long  and  12.00  in  extent,  this  species  may  vary 
much  in  size;  the  black  bill  is  an  inch  or  more  in  length 
and  slightly  bent;  the  crown  and  upper  parts  are  dusky, 
the  feathers  being  edged  with  reddish  and  tipped  with 
white,  or  simply  edged  with  grayish;  rump  and  tail-coverts, 
black;  wings  dusky,  marked  with  white  ;  line  over  the  eye, 
tips  of  the  lesser  wing-coverts,  throat  and  under  parts,  white; 
legs  and  feet,  dusky.  Its  diminutive  size  distinguishes  it 
readily  from  all  our  birds  of  its  kind,  except  the  Least 
Sandpiper,  which  it  greatly  resembles,  but  from  which  it  is 
strongly  differentiated  by  its  half-webbed  toes.  This  species 
breeds  from  Labrador  to  the  far  north,  having  a  slight 
nest  on  the  ground,  after  the  manner  of  other  Waders; 
the  4  eggs,  about  1.22X.84,  being  pale  grayish  or 
greenish-drab,  or  olivaceous,  boldly  blotched  or  marked 
with  several  shades  of  brown,  mostly  about  the  large  end. 
Passing  through  the  Middle  States  late  in  April  or  early 
in  May,  it  returns  from  late  July  even  till  early  October, 
feeding  leisurely  on  insects,  worms  and  diminutive  mollusks. 
It  is  common  to  North,  Central  and  most  of  South  America. 
It  would  seem  that  it  winters  for  the  most  part  beyond 
our  boundaries. 

As  I  view  this  little  bird  on  the  point,  I  naturally  associ- 
ate it  with  its  quaint  little  relative,  the  Least  Sandpiper.  The 
flight  of  this  species,  as  of  that  of  the  above,  is  straight- 
forward and  rapid;  and  it  also  passes  these  middle  districts 
late  in  April  or  early  in  May,  raising  its  young  from  the 
rocky  coasts  of  Labrador  northward.  Here,  its  nest  is 
found  on  "  the  moss-clad  crests  of  the  highest  rocks, 


THE    TURNSTONE.  557 

within  short  distances  of  the  sea."  This  nest  is  a  mere  de- 
pression in  the  moss,  slightly  lined  with  dried  grasses.  The 
4  eggs,  resembling  those  of  the  Spotted  Sandpiper,  are 
about  .92 X. 75,  light  yellowish-drab,  blotched  and  spotted 
with  dark-umber.  Like  the  rest  of  the  Waders,  these  birds 
are  greatly  excited  when  disturbed  in  nidification,  flying 
with  a  whirring  noise,  which  resembles  the  wing-strokes  of  a 
startled  Grouse. 

As  it  returns  along  the  Atlantic  Coast,  any  time  from 
the  last  of  July  till  October,  it  is  sometimes  seen  in  im- 
mense numbers,  gyrating  about  brackish  marshes,  and 
appearing  in  the  distance  like  swarms  of  bees  in  search  of 
a  place  of  settlement.  Using  their  bills  after  the  manner  of 
Snipe,  they  search  the  soft  mud  and  the  debris  for  their  fare 
of  aquatic  insects,  worms  and  tiny  mollusks.  At  such 
times  their  conversational  peep,  peep,  pip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip,  or  ptdee, 
pidee,  dee,  dee,  is  cheerily  uttered,  and  suggests  how  great 
is  the  quiet  joy  of  these  little  creatures  in  their  natural 
haunts. 

Considerably  less  than  6  inches  long,  the  color  and  gen- 
eral appearance  of  this  pigmy  of  its  race  is  very  much  like 
that  of  the  Semipalmated  Sandpiper,  the  general  effect 
being  darker;  and  its  toes,  which  are  not  semipalmated,  but 
divided  to  the  base,  are  slender  and  wiry,  and  so  render  it 
readily  distinguishable.  Many  spend  the  winter  in  the 
extreme  Southern  States. 

THE    TURNSTONE. 

As  I  continue  to  gaze  across  the  mouth  of  the  creek  I  spy 
a  pair  of  most  dainty  little  walkers,  treading  their  way 
along  the  pebbly  shore,  with  an  ease  and  elegance,  and  a 
pigeon-like  motion  of  the  head,  most  pleasing  through  the 
glass  which  brings  them  almost  to  the  end  of  my  nose.  The 


558  THE    TURNSTONE. 

species  before  me  is  the  Turnstone  (Strepsilas  interpret), 
found  in  every  continent  of  the  world,  and  decidedly  the 
most  brightly  colored  bird  of  our  shores.  The  gunners  on 
the  coast  call  it  the  "  Calico  Plover."  About  9.00  long,  its 
shape  bears  quite  a  resemblance  to  that  of  the  Plover,  ex- 
cept that  its  bill,  which  is  shorter  than  the  head,  is  stout,  its 
tapering  point  turning  up  a  little,  that  its  legs  are  quite 
short,  and  that  it  has  a  well  developed  hind  toe.  The  up- 
per parts  are  variously  marked  with  black,  rich  brown, 
rufous,  and  a  little  white;  the  head  and  neck  are  white, 
thickly  and  pretty  distinctly  spotted  with  black;  the  fore 
part  of  the  neck  and  the  sides  of  the  breast  are  jet-black; 
the  throat,  under  parts,  under  sides  of  the  wings,  lower 
back,  longer  tail-coverts,  base  of  the  tail  and  the  quills, 
clear  white;  feet  and  legs,  bright  orange.  This  is  the  mark- 
ing of  the  mature  bird  in  summer,  but  it  varies  greatly  with 
the  seasons  and  the  age  of  the  bird,  the  colors  and  markings 
becoming  quite  obscure  in  extreme  cases.  The  species  can 
always  be  determined,  however,  by  the  peculiarities  of  form 
above  noted.  Of  the  two  specimens  now  before  me,  one 
is  quite  strongly  colored,  while  the  other  is  very  indistinct. 
Still  looking  through  the  glass,  the  birds  seem  just  before 
me — almost  near  enough  to  be  touched — and  as  they  have 
not  the  slightest  suspicion  of  my  presence,  they  are  acting 
themselves  out  fully.  Some  one  has  watched  this  bird  be- 
fore me,  as  is  evident  from  its  name.  Turnstone,  indeed, 
it  is,  turning  over,  with  its  bill,  pebbles,  shells,  small  sticks, 
weeds,  and  bits  of  rubbish  of  all  kinds,  to  find  its  food 
of  insects,  worms,  small  mollusks  and  crustaceans.  Its 
stout  bill  makes  a  good  lever,  its  short  legs  give  it  a  strong 
purchase,  and  its  long  toes  give  it  a  firm  and  easy  step  on 
the  most  uneven  surface.  As  it  takes  wing  I  notice  that  its 
flight  and  general  appearance  in  the  air  is  almost  precisely 


THE  BLACK-BELLIED   PLOVER.  559 

like  that  of  the  Killdeer.     It    has    also    a    loud,    whistling 
note. 

This  bird  is  found  in  small  numbers  along  our  inland 
waters.  Its  home,  however,  would  seem  to  be  more  partic- 
ularly along  the  sea-coast.  Breeding  in  high,  northern  lat- 
itudes, its  nidification  is  so  similar  to  that  of  our  shore-birds 
in  general  as  scarcely  to  need  particular  description.  There 
are  four  pointed  eggs,  1.50X1.25,  "pale  yellowish  green, 
with  a  few  black  lines  and  irregular  patches  of  brownish-red. " 
It  is  generally  seen  along  the  sea  in  small  flocks  of  some 
half  dozen,  but  sometimes  it  joins  the  Sandpipers. 

THE    BLACK-BELLIED    PLOVER. 

Flying  along  the  lake  shore,  a  flock  of  nine  Black-bellied 
Plovers  (Squatarola  helvetica)  alight  on  the  farthest  part  of 
the  point.  They  have  a  gamy,  grouse-like  look,  standing 
thus  at  ease  on  the  sand,  preening  their  feathers;  and  one 
feels  the  propriety  of  their  place  in  classification — next  to 
Partridges  and  Quails.  Nearly  cosmopolitan  in  their  distri- 
bution, they  strongly  resemble  the  Golden  Plover,  but  are 
readily  distinguished,  even  in  the  distance,  by  their  large 
head — giving  them  the  name  Bull-head — and  by  their  stout 
bodies;  when  taken  in  the  hand,  they  are  found  also  to  have 
a  rudimentary  hind  toe,  thus  differing  from  all  the  rest  of 
the  Plovers. 

Nearly  a  foot  long,  and  more  than  two  feet  in  extent, 
this  bird  presents  a  rather  imposing  appearance  for  one  of 
its  kind.  When  in  full  summer  plumage,  the  upper  parts 
are  variegated  with  black,  yellowish-brown  and  white;  the 
wings  are  deep  dusky,  with  white  markings;  the  tail  white, 
crossed  with  blackish;  cheeks,  throat,  fore-neck,  breast  and 
lining  of  the  wings,  jet-black;  about  the  head  and  neck,  ele- 
gantly bordered  with  chalk-white.  They  are  then  a  strikingly 


560  THE   GOLDEN  PLOVER. 

beautiful  figure.  Such  an  one  did  I  meet  in  June  (1881), 
among  the  Herring  Gulls  on  the  rocky  shoals  of  Georgian  Bay. 
This  species  varies  greatly  with  age  and  with  the  seasons. 
Its  winter  habit,  of  mottled  brown  and  gray  above,  and 
white  or  whitish  beneath,  is  greatly  inferior  to  that  of  the 
summer.  In  all  stages  of  growth  it  may  be  distinguished 
from  the  young  of  the  Golden  Plover  by  its  much  larger 
bill,  and  by  the  more  extended  webbing  between  the  outer 
and  middle  toes,  as  also  by  its  hind  toe.  A  conspicuous 
feature  of  this  bird  is  its  large,  bright  black  eye,  with  a 
white  ring  around  it  in  summer,  giving  it  the  name  Ox- 
eye  among  gunners.  It  has  a  loud,  shrill,  whistling  note. 
Its  food  is  insects,  worms  and  berries.  Audubon  and  Wil- 
son both  give  accounts,  as  from  their  own  observations,  of 
this  Plover's  breeding  in  the  high  inland  regions  of  the 
Middle  States,  but  at  present  its  .nidification  seems  to  be 
known  only  in  very  high  northern  latitudes.  The  4  eggs, 
2.00X1.40,  are  brownish  or  yellowish-drab,  rather  heavily 
marked  with  brownish-black  about  the  larger  half,  the  rest 
of  the  surface  specked  with  the  same. 

THE    GOLDEN  PLOVER. 

Occasionally  during  the  day  I  see  moderate  flocks  of  the 
Golden  Plover  (Charadrius  fulvus  var.  virginicus)  coming 
from  their  gleanings  in  the  lately  reaped  grain-fields,  or 
flying  along  the  shore  of  the  lake.  Just  as  a  most  magnifi- 
cent autumn  sunset  is  tinging  the  whole  atmosphere  with 
its  varied  hues,  a  flock  of  fifty  or  more  coming  off  the  land 
meet  as  many  more  coming  in  from  the  lake,  and  the  con- 
joined flocks,  blending  completely,  perform  a  great  variety 
of  most  graceful  evolutions.  They  cut  circles  above  the 
point,  make  broad  sweeps  about  the  edge  of  the  lake,  now 
flying  high,  now  low,  now  tipping  their  backs  toward  me, 


THE   GOLDEN  PLOVER.  561 

and  now  throwing  up  their  under  parts,  the  cloud-like  figure 
of  the  mass  changing  form  every  few  moments.  With  what 
a  dashing  swiftness  they  perform  their  flight,  and  how  per- 
fectly each  one  keeps  his  place  throughout  all  the  changes, 
all  performing  precisely  the  same  movement  at  the  same 
instant,  as  if  one  spirit  animated  and  guided  them  all! 
Which  one  is  the  leader  of  these  swift  forces  ?  How  do 
they  all  manage  to  keep  so  on  the  alert  for  every  signal  ? 
Ah  !  we  only  see  the  birds  at  a  distance,  after  all,  and  know 
but  little  of  what  makes  up  their  inner  life  !  As  they  near 
me  in  one  of  their  gyrations,  I  give  them  the  contents  of 
both  barrels  of  my  shot-gun,  bringing  down  enough  for 
my  purposes.  The  flock  disappears,  but  for  a  long  time 
their  peculiar  whistling  notes  linger  in  my  ears. 

Nearly  11  inches  long,  and  nearly  22  in  extent,  the  present 
color  of  this  bird  is  a  sort  of  compromise  between  its  beau- 
tiful summer  habit  and  its  plainer  winter  dress.  The  color 
of  spring  is  brownish-black  on  the  upper  parts  generally, 
each  feather  being  elegantly  spotted  about  the  edge  with 
bright  yellow — "  old  gold,"  if  you  please,  and  hence  its 
common  name  ;  the  wing-coverts  are  marked  with  white, 
and  the  dusky  tail  is  barred  with  the  same;  primaries  of  a 
fine  brown;  upper  part  of  the  forehead,  space  in  front  of 
and  line  over  the  eye,  dull  white;  sides  of  the  neck  and  of 
the  body  the  same,  spotted  with  brown  and  yellowish- white; 
breast  and  line  in  front  of  the  neck,  brownish-black,  the 
latter  margined  on  both  sides  with  clear  white.  In  the 
winter  habit,  the  upper  parts  are  similar,  but  less  bright  and 
distinct,  while  the  under  parts  become  light-gray,  streaked 
with  darker. 

A  noted  bird  throughout  the  northern  hemisphere  is  the 
Golden  Plover,  the  species  or  varieties  of  the  Old  World 
being  very  closely  allied  to  our  own.  Spending  the  winter, 
36 


562  THE  KILLDEER. 

for  the  most  part,  beyond  our  limits,  these  birds  pass  the 
middle  districts  on  their  way  northward  during  the  latter 
half  of  April  or  early  in  May,  at  which  time  they  have  not 
yet  reached  the  perfect  beauty  of  their  summer  attire. 
They  breed  on  the  barren  grounds  of  the  far  north  and  on 
the  islands  of  the  Arctic  Seas.  Dr.  Dall  found  them  com- 
mon along  the  Yukon.  The  4  eggs,  about  1.90  xl-37,  are 
pale  brownish-clay  color,  sometimes  approximating  to  drab, 
or  even  approaching  white.  They  are  boldly  marked  and 
blotched  with  dark  brown,  especially  around  the  large  end. 
The  nest  is  a  mere  depression  in  the  ground,  slightly  lined 
with  dried  grasses  or  leaves — feathers  being  sometimes  added. 

These  Plovers  are  among  our  most  characteristic  birds  of 
passage,  in  the  month  of  September,  being  as  common  in 
the  west  as  in  the  more  easterly  regions.  When  passing 
from  one  point  to  another  they  fly  high,  with  rapid  and 
steady  beat  of  their  long  pointed  wings.  Entering  the 
fields,  they  fly  very  low,  scouring  the  region  thoroughly,  it 
may  be,  before  they  alight.  Whether  flying  high  or  low, 
unless  the  flock  be  very  large,  they  generally  move  in  lines 
of  many  abreast,  forming  as  many  curves  and  angles  as  so 
many  Wild  Geese. 

They  may  eat  caterpillars  or  berries,  but  their  chief  relish 
is  for  grasshoppers,  which  they  capture  most  adroitly. 
When  in  flight  they  may  be  easily  "  whistled  down,"  and  are 
frequently  shot  in  great  numbers.  They  are  often  very  fat, 
and  their  flesh  is  delicious. 

THE    KILLDEER. 

Our  Plover  the  most  familiar  to  every  one,  is  the  Killdeer 
(sEgialitis  ew//mz), which  I  see  almost  constantly  on  the  point 
of  land  under  observation.  In  the  sunny  days  of  March,  al- 
ready he  greets  us  with  his  half-cheerful,  half-plaintive  note, 


THE  KILLDEER.  563 

so  well  expressed  by  his  common  name,  as  scarcely  to  need 
further  description.  Then,  even  at  midnight,  while  the 
snow  is  yet  on  the  ground,  you  may  hear  his  stirring  call 
as  he  passes  by  for  regions  still  farther  north.  And  did 
you  ever  hear  him  without  recalling  the  blooming  meadow 
and  the  brook  ?  I  admire  his  taste  in  locating  his  summer 
home,  in  the  clover,  by  some  rippling  streamlet.  Altogether 
unique,  too,  is  the  style  of  the  nest.  That  circular  arrange- 
ment of  smooth  pebbles,  peculiar  bits  of  wood,  or  fragments 
of  shells,  is  wholly  primitive,  reminding  one  of  cromlechs  and 
cairns.  Inside  this  little  circle,  at  once  so  simple  and  so 
artistic,  the  four  eggs  are  placed,  the  small  points  of  the 
conical  forms  touching  each  other  at  the  center.  About 
1.45  X  1.05,  they  are  of  a  dark,  rich  cream-color,  well  spot- 
ted and  blotched  with  blackish-brown — beautifully  in  har- 
mony with  the  ground  on  which  they  lie.  Nest  and  eggs 
seem  like  a  natural  appurtenance  of  the  field.  Occasionally, 
however,  the  Killdeer  seeks  to  be  in  fashion,  and  builds  a 
nest  of  dried  grasses,  or,  becoming  careless,  simply  adopts 
a  depression  in  the  ground.  Of  all  the  maternal  demon- 
strations so  peculiar  to  Plovers  and  Sandpipers,  none  are 
more  emphatic  than  those  of  the  Killdeer.  Fairly  rolling 
and  tumbling  on  the  ground,  the  mother-bird  will  spread 
her  tail  and  beat  the  ground  with  her  expanded  wings,  cry- 
ing oh,  dear,  dear,  dear,  dear,  till  the  hardest  heart  must 
relent  under  her  beseeching  tones.  In  this  attitude  she 
gives  one  the  full  impression  of  her  beautiful  colors.  Fore- 
head, below  the  black  band  between  the  eyes,  eye-brows, 
and  entire  under  parts,  white;  upper  parts  yellowish  or  red- 
dish-brown; ring  round  the  breast,  and  a  broader  one 
round  the  neck,  jet-black;  wings  dusky,  marked  with  white; 
the  dusky  tail,  shading  into  black  toward  the  reddish  and 
white  tips,  and  flanked  with  light  red,  white  and  dusky,  is 


564  BARTRAM'S  SANDPIPER., 

especially  illuminated  by  the  bright  yellowish-red  rump 
and  tail-coverts;  and  not  least,  as  a  mark  of  beauty,  are  the 
bright  red  eye-lids.  The  young  in  the  down  are  a  faithful 
pattern  of  the  colors  of  the  mature  bird. 

While  your  sympathies  are  being  won  by  the  sorrowful 
demonstrations  of  the  female,  the  male  is  equally  active, 
flying  in  circles  about  your  head,  running  around  you — he 
is  a  very  adept  at  running — and  joining  most  earnestly  in 
the  cries  of  the  family. 

The  young  are  true  representatives  of  the  precoces,  run- 
ning well  as  soon  as  free  from  the  shell.  A  nest  containing 
eggs  in  the  forenoon,  in  the  afternoon  may  have  nothing 
but  shells.  The  young  are  reared  in  the  same  kind  of  low- 
lands and  river-bottoms,  as  are  chosen  for  nidification.  In- 
deed, such  localities  are  the  home  of  the  species.  The  first 
eggs  are  laid  in  May,  and  there  may  be  another  set  in  July. 

The  Killdeer  is  well  in  favor  with  the  farmer,  not  only 
because  of  his  familiar  notes  and  spirited  antics,  but  because 
of  his  destruction  of  caterpillars  and  insects,  and  par- 
ticularly of  grasshoppers.  Wintering  abundantly  in  the 
Southern  and  Southwestern  States,  it  may  extend  even  to 
South  America,  breeding  from  Texas  far  into  British  North 
America  and  to  the  Pacific. 

Plovers  are  a  well-marked  group  of  birds,  differing  from 
the  more  numerous  Snipes,  Sandpipers,  Tattlers,  etc.,  in 
the  rather  large  head,  the  shorter  bill  and  neck,  and  the 
marked  pigeon-like  form  of  the  bill,  but  more  especially, 
perhaps,  in  having  only  three  toes,  the  exceptional  hind 
toe  of  the  Black-billed  Plover  being  only  rudimentary. 

BARTRAM'S  SANDPIPER. 

By  that  powerful  law  of  the  mind — the  association  of  ideas, 
a  bird  always  connected  in  my  mind  with  the  Killdeer,  is 


BAR  TRAM'S  SANDPIPER.  565 

Bartram's  Sandpiper  (Actiturus  bartramius] ;  not  from  close 
structural  affinity,  indeed,  for  the  last  mentioned  is  a  true 
Sandpiper,  or  still  more  properly  a  Tattler,  but  from  the 
fact  that  I  have  so  often  found  it  breeding  in  some  adjoin- 
ing locality.  On  the  whole,  Bartram's  Sandpiper  is  a  much 
more  upland  bird  than  the  KilldeerT  Its  nest  may  be 
found  even  in  dry,  sandy  fields,  hence  it  is  often  called  the 
Field  or  Grass  Plover.  Notwithstanding  its  grallatorial 
structure,  it  seems  almost  utterly  to  have  forsaken  the 
water,  and  to  have  become  naturalized  to  the  meadow 
and  the  pasture,  along  with  Bobolinks  and  Sparrows. 
I  generally  find  it  on  the  rather  high  level  grounds  just 
north  of  the  Ridge,  which  determines  the  famous  Ridge 
Road  of  Western  New  York,  but  sometimes  even  on  the 
Ridge  itself. 

About  12-13  inches  long  and  22  or  more  inches  in  extent, 
with  the  rather  long  bill  and  legs  peculiar  to  the  Tattlers 
(the  bill  being  less  sensitive  in  that  group  than  in  the  Sand- 
pipers), Bartram's  Sandpiper  has  the  crown  dark-brown, 
with  a  median  line  of  light  reddish-brown;  upper  parts 
generally  a  rich  dark-brown,  with  black  markings  or  bars 
running  obliquely  across  the  vanings,  the  edges  or  tips  of 
the  feathers  being  brownish  or  reddish-white;  the  lower 
back  clear  brown,  deep  and  glossy;  neck,  breast,  and  vent, 
cream-color;  under  parts,  yellowish-white;  the  neck  streaked 
with  brown;  pointed  cross-markings  on  the  breast,  and  the 
straighter  cross-bars  on  the  sides  and  axillaries,  deep  brown 
or  black;  outer  primaries  with  much  dull  white  on  the  in- 
ner vanes;  wing-coverts  quite  light,  crossed  with  brown; 
and  the  long  tertiaries  deeply  edged  with  light  brown,  into 
which  the  black  markings  point  conspicuously;  legs,  yellow- 
ish. The  most  elegant  part  of  this  bird  is  the  tail,  which 
shades  from  dark-brown  in  the  center,  through  various  tints 


566  BAR  TRAM'S  SANDPIPER. 

of  rufous,  to  white  on  the  sides,  the  whole  being  distinctively 
marked  with  black. 

Reaching  Western  New  York  late  in  April,  and  nest- 
ing in  the  latter  half  of  May,  its  4  eggs,  some  1.82x1.25,  are 
a  warm  light-brown,  or  drab,  specked  all  over  with  brown, 
some  of  the  marks  about  the  large  end  being  larger,  others, 
all  over  the  surface,  being  lighter.  There  is  a  noticeably 
warm  effect  in  the  entire  coloring.  The  nest  is  a  mere 
depression  in  the  ground,  generally  lined  slightly  with 
dried  grasses,  and  occurs  here  about  the  middle  of  May 
or  later.  Unless  seriously  disturbed,  the  birds  are  not 
particularly  shy.  I  have  known  the  female  to  be  caught 
with  the  hand  on  the  nest,  and  to  continue  sitting  after 
some  of  the  eggs  had  been  broken.  Indeed,  when  so 
alarmed  as  to  refrain  from  sitting  on  the  nest,  she  will  lin- 
ger a  whole  night  near  the  cold,  wet  eggs.  The  young  in 
the  down  are  white  beneath,  "finely  mottled  with  black, 
white,  and  with  brown  above,"  and  leaving  the  nest  at  once, 
grow  rapidly,  testing  their  wings  already  when  only  a 
month  old. 

Quip-ip-ip-ip,  quip-ip-ip-ip,  spiritly  and  rapidly  uttered, 
may  represent  the  ordinary  alarm  note  of  this  species;  but 
when  it  alights  on  the  ground,  on  the  fence,  or  even  in  a 
tree,  stretching  or  rather  holding  its  wings  straight  up  for 
a  few  moments,  it  utters  a  prolonged  and  peculiar  note, 
sounding  like  chr-r-r-r-r-ee-e-e-e-e-e-oo-o-o-o-o-oo,  the  syllable 
ee  being  strongly  on  the  upward  slide,  and  the  syllable  oo 
in  a  marked  falling  inflection.  This  prolonged,  mournful, 
mellow  whistle,  "  more  like  the  whistling  of  the  wind  than 
a  bird's  voice,"  may  be  heard  even  in  the  night,  and  is  one 
of  the  most  weird  and  never-to-be-forgotten  sounds  in  na- 
ture. This  bird  is  a  swift  and  graceful  runner,  and  a  very 
adept  at  hiding  in  the  grass.  Its  flight  is  regular,  rapid, 


THE   CROSSBILLS.  567 

and  beautiful.  Its  diet  is  insectivorous,  grasshoppers  and 
crickets  being  its  principal  bill  of  fare  here,  while  in  some 
localities  it  regales  itself  on  wild  strawberries,  and  in  others 
on  the  cantharides,  the  last  making  its  flesh  a  violent 
emetic. 

Breeding  in  the  Middle  States  generally,  and  reaching 
Maine  or  Nova  Scotia  in  the  east,  the  Saskatchawan,  or  even 
Alaska,  in  the  northwest,  and  the  Rocky  Mountains  west- 
ward, it  gathers  in  families  and  flocks  late  in  summer,  mov- 
ing leisurely  in  its  southward  migration,  which  may  extend 
even  to  Brazil.  It  has  been  found  as  a  straggler  in  Europe 
and  Australia.  As  it  nears  the  south  and  the  southwest  in 
early  autumn,  it  is  often  in  immense  flocks.  It  is  said  to  be 
especially  abundant  in  Dakota  in  the  breeding  season.  Its 
flesh  is  generally  excellent. 

* 

THE    CROSSBILLS. 

Most  curious  of  all  the  song-birds  of  the  north  are  the 
Crossbills.  Their  most  marked  peculiarity  in  structure  is 
indicated  by  their  common  name.  The  bill,  which  is  quite 
long  and  deep  at  the  base,  is  much  compressed,  especially 
towards  the  tips  of  the  mandibles;  and  these  are  so  abruptly 
bent — the  upper  one  downward  and  the  lower  one  upward 
—that  their  sharp  points  cross  each  other  at  an  angle  of  at 
least  forty-five  degrees.  The  head  is  large,  the  stout  jaws, 
so  apparent  through  the  feathers,  giving  it  quite  a  chuckle- 
headed  appearance;  the  wings  are  tolerably  long  and 
pointed;  the  short  tail  is  deeply  emarginate;  the  feet  are 
rather  large,  and  the  legs  are  short  and  robust.  Thus  this 
little  bird,  some  six  and  a  half  to  seven  inches  long — the 
mature  male  a  mottled  red  and  the  female  a  mottled  green 
—bears  a  crude  analogy  to  a  Hawk  or  an  Owl,  or  even  to  a 
Parrot. 


THE   WHITE-WINGED   CKOSSBILL. 


THE   CROSSBILLS.  569 

On  this  continent  we  have  the  Common  and  the  White- 
winged  Crossbills — two  distinct  species — the  latter  of  which 
is  a  little  the  smaller,  having  the  red  of  the  male  noticeably 
brighter,  with  bars  of  clear  white  on  the  wings,  some  of  the 
secondaries  of  which  are  also  tipped  with  white,  and  the 
wings  and  tail  blacker.  The  two  species  of  Crossbills  in 
Europe  are  quite  similar  to  ours. 

In  habit  the  Crossbills  are  about  as  peculiar  as  they  are 
in  structure.  Breeding  in  the  extreme  north  of  New 
England  and  northward,  they  range,  very  irregularly,  south- 
ward as  far  as  Philadelphia.  In  Western  New  York,  we 
may  meet  them,  as  winter  stragglers,  perhaps,  once  in  four 
or  five  years.  Sometimes  they  occur  in  considerable  flocks 
in  the  bright  days  of  autumn.  The  habits  of  the  European 
varieties  seem  to  be  equally  irregular,  so  that  the  celebrated 
naturalist,  Dr.  Brehm,  used  to  call  the  Crossbills  the  gyp- 
sies among  birds,  attributing  their  movements  to  scarcity  or 
abundance  of  their  peculiar  food. 

It  is  well  demonstrated  that  in  this  country  these  birds 
breed  in  winter,  or  early  in  spring.  Concerning  the  nest  of 
the  Common  Crossbills,  Audubon  says  :  "  Many  persons 
in  the  State  of  Maine  assured  me  that  they  had  found  it  on 
pine  trees  in  the  middle  of  winter  and  while  the  earth  was 
deeply  covered  with  snow.  The  people  employed  in  cut- 
ting pine  timber  at  that  season,  when  it  is  easier  to  remove 
the  logs  to  the  rivers  in  which  they  are  subsequently  floated 
when  the  ice  melts,  have  very  frequently  told  me  that,  on 
felling  a  tree,  they  have  caught  the  young  Crossbills,  which 
have  been  jerked  out  of  their  nests."  Mr.  M.  Chamber- 
lain, of  St.  John,  New  Brunswick,  a  gentleman  held  in 
esteem  as  a  careful  and  enthusiastic  observer,  says  in  a 
communication  to  the  Ornithologist  and  Oologist  of  May, 
1881 :  "I  think  it  was  in  the  third  week  in  January,  1875, 


570  THE   CROSSBILLS. 

I  was  out  moose-hunting  and  started  a  big  buck,  and,  in 
the  chase  I  found  him  making  a  circle,  and  cut  through  a 
bunch  of  trees  to  gain  upon  him.  On  my  way  through 
the  thick  wood,  I  stopped  to  adjust  a  strap  on  my  snow- 
shoes,  and  found  myself  face  to  face  with  a  White-winged 
Crossbill  on  her  nest — the  high  bank  of  snow  under  me 
bringing  my  head  about  level  with  the  nest.  As  I  ap- 
proached closer  to  examine  it,  she  flew  to  a  branch  near  by, 
where  I  was  enabled  carefully  to  examine  and  identify  her. 
The  nest  was  placed  in  a  fork  of  one  of  the  main  limbs  of 
the  tree,  and  was  composed  externally  of  the  long,  gray  moss 
(  Usned)  which  grew  in  large  patches  on  most  of  the  trees  in 
this  vicinity,  and  so  much  resembled  these  patches  of  moss 
as  to  be  difficult  of  detection.  In  the  inside  was  a  lining 
of  softer  moss;  and  between  the  lining  and  the  exterior 
were  small  twigs  interlaced.  In  the  nest  were  three  eggs, 
of  a  bluish-white  ground-color,  having  dashes  of  red  upon 
the  larger  end."  Other  proofs  of  these  birds  breeding  in 
winter  are  not  wanting.  In  the  .latter  part  of  April,  1875, 
after  a  severe  winter,  Mr.  E.  P.  Bicknell  found  a  nest  of  the 
Common  Crossbill  at  Riverdale,  N.  Y.,  of  which  he  says: 
"  The  nest  was  placed  in  a  tapering  cedar  of  rather  scanty 
foliage,  about  eighteen  feet  from  the  ground,  and  was  with- 
out any  single  main  support,  being  built  in  a  mass  of  small 
tangled  twigs,  from  which  it  was  with  difficulty  detached. 
The  .situation  could  scarcely  have  been  more  conspic- 
uous, being  close  to  the  intersection  of  several  roads  (all  of 
them  more  or  less  bordered  with  ornamental  evergreens), 
in  plain  sight  of  as  many  residences,  and  constantly  exposed 
to  the  view  of  passers-by.  The  materials  of  its  composition 
were  of  rather  a  miscellaneous  character,  becoming  finer 
and  more  select  from  without  inwards.  An  exterior  of 
bristling  spruce  twigs,  loosely  arranged,  surrounded  a  mass 


THE   CROSSBILLS.  571 

of  matted  shreds  of  cedar  bark,  which  formed  the  principal 
body  of  the  structure,  a  few  strips  of  the  same  appearing 
around  the  upper  border,  the  whole  succeeded  on  the  inside 
by  a  sort  of  felting  of  finer  material,  which  received  the 
scanty  lining  of  black  horse-hair,  fine  rootlets,  grass  stems, 
pieces  of  string,  and  two  or  three  feathers.  This  shallow 
felting  of  the  inner  nest  can  apparently  be  removed  intact 
from  the  body  of  the  structure,  which,  besides  the  above- 
mentioned  materials,  contained  small  pieces  of  moss,  leaves, 
grass,  string,  cottony  substances,  and  the  green  foliage  of 
cedar.  The  nest  measured  internally  two  and  one-half 
inches  in  diameter  by  over  one  and  a  quarter  in  depth;  being 
in  diameter  externally  about  four  inches,  and  rather  shal- 
low in  appearance. 

"The  fresh  eggs  are,  in  ground  color,  of  a  decided  greenish 
tint,  almost  immaculate  on  the  smaller  end,  but  on  the  op- 
posite side,  with  irregular  spots  and  dottings  of  lavender- 
brown  of  slightly  varying  shade,  interspersed  with  a  few 
heavy  surface-spots  of  dark  purple-brown.  There  is  no  ap- 
proach in  the  arrangement  of  these  to  a  circle,  but  between 
the  apex  of  the  larger  end  and  the  greatest  diameter  of  the 
egg  is  a  fine  hair-like  surface  line;  in  two  examples  it  forms 
a  complete  though  irregular  circle,  and  incloses  the  princi- 
pal spots.  In  the  other  egg,  which  is  the  largest,  this  line 
is  not  quite  complete,  and  the  primary  blotches  are  wanting, 
but  the  secondary  markings  are  correspondingly  larger  and 
more  numerous.  In  another  egg  there  are  two  perfect 
figures  of  3  formed  on  the  sides  by  the  secondary  marks, 
one  of  them  large  and  singularly  symmetrical.  The  eggs 
measure  respectively  .74X-56,  .75X-58,  .78X-59." 

The  curious  bill  of  this  bird  is  in  special  adaptation  to 
its  food  and  the  manner  of  securing  it.  Those  sharply- 
pointed  curves  of  the  mandibles  serve  as  the  most  con- 


572  THE   CROSSBILLS. 

venient  hooks  for  getting  the  seeds  of  the  pine,  the  spruce 
and  the  hemlock  out  of  the  cones.  "  On  first  glancing  at 
the  bill  of  this  extraordinary  bird,"  says  Wilson,  the 
great  ornithologist,  "  one  is  apt  to  pronounce  it  deformed 
and  monstrous;  but,  on  attentively  observing  the  use  to 
which  it  is  applied  by  the  owner,  and  the  dexterity  with 
which  he  detaches  the  seeds  of  the  pine-tree  from  the  cone 
and  from  the  husks  that  inclose  them,  we  are  obliged  to 
confess,  on  this,  as  on  many  other  occasions  where  we  have 
judged  too  hastily  of  the  operations  of  nature,  that  no 
other  conformation  could  have  been  so  excellently  adapted 
to  the  purpose;  and  that  its  deviation  from  the  common 
form,  instead  of  being  a  defect  or  monstrosity,  as  the  cele- 
brated French  naturalist  insinuates,  is  a  striking  proof  of 
the  wisdom  and  kind  superintending  care  of  the  great 
Creator."  The  hooks  of  the  bill  are  also  used  as  instru- 
ments for  climbing,  after  the  manner  of  the  Parrots,  as  is 
shown  in  the  accompanying  engraving. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

REMINISCENCES. 

IN  my  first  ornithological  studies  in  Northern  Ohio,  the 
most  charming  bird  of  all  which  attracted  my  attention 
was  the  Cardinal  Grosbeak  (Cardinalis  virginianus.)  Through- 
out the  winter,  almost  every  patch  of  woods  near  a  corn- 
field of  the  year  before  contained  a  pair — male  and  female — 
but  never  more  than  a  pair  in  the  same  vicinity.  Indeed, 
the  species  seemed  much  more  common  in  winter  than  in 
summer,  and  so  was  a  sort  of  large,  gay  snow-bird.  On 
approaching  its  haunt,  I  was  advised  of  its  presence  by  its 
loud,  sharp,  chipping  note,  quite  distinguishable  from  any 
other  sound  in  the  woods.  About  eight  inches  long,  and 
most  elegantly  formed,  the  most  noticeable  features  of  the 
Cardinal  are  the  rather  long  and  somewhat  rounded  tail, 
and  the  beautiful  crest.  The  bright  vermilion  of  the  male — 
the  upper  parts  darker,  and  the  feathers  of  the  back  fringed 
with  bluish-ash — renders  him  a  most  conspicuous  object  in 
the  leafless  trees  and  the  snowy  landscape.  From  a  nearer 
point  of  view,  the  jet-black  of  his  chin,  front  and  lores,  and 
the  roseate  tint  of  his  thick  bill,  set  him  off  to  fine  advan- 
tage. Every  movement  is  elevated  and  stately.  In  form, 
color  and  motion,  he  is  the  very  ideal  of  elegance  and 
beauty.  In  form  and  gracefulness,  the  female  is  his  exact 
counterpart.  Of  a  fine  yellowish  drab  on  the  breast  and 
sides,  and  dusky-olive  over  the  back;  her  crest,  wings  and 


574  THE    CARDINAL    GROSBEAK. 

tail,  tinged  with  vermilion;  her  chin,  front  and  lores,  deep 
dusky — if  less  brilliant,  she  is  scarcely  less  beautiful  than 
her  gay  consort. 

The  loud,  sprightly,  and  somewhat  varied  whistling, 
which  constitutes  the  song  of  the  Cardinal,  has  always 
commanded  admiration.  In  those  southern  climes  where 
the  species  finds  its  most  congenial  home,  and  where 
it  is  an  abundant  resident  throughout  the  year,  it  is  in 
song  from  March  till  September.  Nor  does  it  render  a 
mere  matin  or  vesper  hymn,  but  may  fife  its  loudest,  clear- 
est melody  at  almost  any  hour  of  the  day.  In  the  breed- 
ing season  its  song  is  almost  as  full  of  enthusiasm  and  ges- 
ticulation as  that  of  the  Purple  Finch.  His  shy  ways,  in 
the  northern  limits  of  his  habitat,  as  he  hops  slyly  about 
the  thicket  in  winter,  or  retires  to  the  deep  forest  in  the 
breeding  season,  are  strangely  in  contrast  with  his  familiar 
ways  in  the  south.  There  he  may  dust  himself  in  the  high- 
way till  you  almost  trampled  upon  him,  may  build  his 
nest  as  near  human  dwellings  as  does  the  Thrasher  or  the 
Mockingbird,  or  visit  the  farm-yard  in  company  with  Spar- 
rows, Jays  and  Turtle-doves,  to  share  the  food  of  the  com- 
mon poultry  in  winter.  Everywhere  his  bright  figure  and 
sprightly  ways  render  him  welcome.  Being  readily  caught 
in  a  figure-four  or  trap  cage,  and  thriving  on  almost  any 
kind  of  food,  he  is  in  great  favor  as  a  cage-bird  of  beauty 
and  of  song.  In  the  early  history  of  our  country  he  be- 
came almost  a  commercial  item,  being  carried  to  the  Old 
World  in  great  numbers,  where  the  admirers  of  his  sprightly 
melody  called  him  the  Virginia  Nightingale. 

The  nest  of  the  Cardinal  is  in  a  bush  or  tree,  somewhat 
after  the  manner  of  the  Catbird,  in  the  north,  or  the  Mock- 
ingbird, in  the  south;  and  is  made  of  dry  leaves,  small 
twigs,  strips  of  bark  from  the  grape-vine,  and  coarse  grasses, 


THE    TUFTED    TITMOUSE.  575 

the  lining  being  of  fine  grasses  carefully  laid.  The  4-5 
eggs,  1.00X.80,  are  white,  sometimes  tinged  with  green  or 
gray,  more  or  less  spotted  with  light  brown  and  lilac,  and 
sometimes  heavily  marked  all  over. 

This  species,  so  abundant  in  the  south  and  southwest,  is 
found,  more  or  less  commonly,  as  far  as  the  south  side  of 
Lake  Erie.  In  Western  New  York  and  to  the  eastward, 
north  of  Virginia,  it  is  but  an  occasional  straggler.  It  has 
been  found,  however,  even  as  far  north  as  Nova  Scotia. 

THE    TUFTED    TITMOUSE. 

Among  my  first  happy  surprises  in  ornithology  was  the 
Tufted  Titmouse  (Lophophanes  bicolor)t  it  also  being  a  com- 
mon winter  resident,  or  rather  resident  throughout  the  year 
in  Northern  Ohio.  About  6.00  long,  with  a  rather  long  and 
finely  formed  tail,  it  has  that  most  elegant  of  bird  orna- 
ments— a  crest.  It  makes  up  therefore  in  graceful  form  and 
sprightly  carriage  what  it  lacks  in  brilliancy  of  color — the 
upper  parts  being  leaden  blue,  and  the  under  parts  grayish- 
white,  with  forehead  black,  and  sides  tinged  with  yellowish- 
brown.  The  most  striking  characteristic  of  this  species  is 
its  vocal  performances.  Now  it  lisps,  twitters  and  chatters, 
as  if  in  intelligent  conversation  with  its  companions;  again 
it  squeaks  like  a  mouse,  or  whines  like  a  puppy,  or  frequently, 
and  still  more  strikingly,  it  whistles  like  one  calling  a  dog. 
More  than  once  did  I  follow  this  latter  performance  for  long 
distances  through  the  woods,  wondering  much  what  sort 
of  bird  or  beast  its  author  might  be.  On  the  whole,  there 
is  much  compass  and  variety,  and  not  a  little  of  a  certain 
grade  of  music,  in  these  numerous  notes  and  rather  loud 
melodies,  and  they  are  all  suggestive  of  a  sly  quaintness  or 
a  vigorous  energy. 

Scarcely  less  interesting  than  its  voice  is  its  manner  of 


576  TOWHEE  BUNTING. 

moving  and  feeding.  Its  concave  wings  and  tail,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Titmice,  are  suitable  to  its  short,  flitting,  jerky 
manner  of  flight.  Its  manner  of  perching  is  proud  and 
sprightly,  with  crest  erect.  According  to  universal  testi- 
mony, as  also  in  conformity  with  the  habits  of  Titmice  and 
Nuthatches  in  general,  the  nest  of  the  Tufted  Titmouse  is 
in  some  hole  in  a  tree — either  a  natural  cavity  suitable  for 
the  purpose,  or  the  vacated  nest  of  the  Downy  Woodpecker, 
or  sometimes  the  bird  will  dig  out  a  cavity  for  itself  in  a 
perfectly  sound  tree.  In  any  case  the  cavity  is  well  lined 
with  various  soft  and  warm  materials,  closely  felted  together. 
Thus  the  nest  is  at  once  a  very  comfortable  and  a  very  safe 
one.  The  eggs,  some  6  or  8,  about  .72X.57,  are  clear 
white,  specked  and  spotted  with  red  at  the  large  end.  In 
the  case  of  the  eggs,  as  in  that  of  the  nests,  there  is  a  marked 
similarity  in  the  whole  group  of  Titmice  and  Nuthatches. 

Common  in  the  Southern,  and  even  numerous  in  the  Mid- 
dle States,  this  species  seems  to  find  its  northern  limit  in 
the  Connecticut  Valley  in  the  east,  about  the  south  shore 
of  Lake  Erie  and  in  Nebraska  westward,  and  it  would  seem 
that  it  does  not  extend  farther  than  Kansas  in  the  west.  In 
this  western  limitation,  it  is  unlike  the  Blue-gray  Gnat- 
catcher,  to  which  it  is  so  similar  in  the  northern  boundaries 
of  its  habitat.  The  Tufted  Titmouse  is  resident  through- 
out its  range,  thus  showing  how  readily  the  same  species 
may  adapt  itself  to  different  latitudes;  and  as  it  is  a  very 
hardy  bird,  spending  the  coldest  winters  in  its  northern 
limits  without  any  apparent  inconvenience,  there  would 
seem  to  be  no  cause  in  itself  why  it  might  not  thrive  still 
further  north. 

TOWHEE     BUNTING. 

An  abundant  species,  associated  with  my  early  studies, 
both  in  Western  Pennsylvania  and  Northern  Ohio,  is  the 


TOW  HER  BUNTING.  577 

Chewink  or  Towhee  Bunting  (Pipilo  erythrophtkalmus] . 
About  8.50  long,  and  11.00  in  extent,  the  male  is  black 
above,  the  color  extending  in  rounded  outline  over  the 
breast;  the  sides  are  chestnut;  the  belly  white;  the  vent 
pale  reddish;  there  is  a  white  spot  at  the  base  of  the  prima- 
ries, and  an  oblique  white  mark  about  in  their  middle; 
there  is  also  some  white  on  the  tertiaries;  the  long  tail  has 
the  three  outer  feathers  finely  marked  with  white.  In  ma- 
turity the  iris  is  bright  red.  The  female  is  brown  where 
the  male  is  black.  Thickets,  bushy  pastures  and  barren 
tracts  on  the  higher  grounds  are  the  favorite  resorts  of  this 
species.  It  comes  early,  reaching  the  Middle  States  in 
April.  The  bottom  poles  of  an  old  rail  fence,  among  the 
briers  by  the  woods,  is  very  likely  to  be  its  thoroughfare;  and 
at  all  times  it  keeps  for  the  most  part  on  or  near  the  ground. 
Sit  down  quietly  in  the  thicket,  and  you  will  hear  its  sharp 
rustle,  as  it  scratches  among  the  dry  leaves;  this  hen-like 
scratching,  probably  in  search  of  food,  being  one  of  its 
marked  characteristics  of  habit.  As  it  flits  from  bush  to 
bush,  never  flying  far  nor  high,  you  can  hear  the  whir-r-r-ry 
of  its  short,  rounded,  concave  wings,  and  as  it  opens  its 
long,  fan-like  tail,  with  a  jerking  motion,  the  white  mark- 
ings contrast  strongly  with  the  jet-black  figure.  It  hops,  and 
sidles,  and  dodges  about,  in  and  out  through  the  brush-pile, 
the  brambles  and  the  thicket,  with  a  nervous,  sparrow-like 
movement,  its  tail  being  often  thrown  up,  after  the  manner 
of  the  Chat  or  Wren.  Frequently  it  calls  out,  chewink,  or 
towhee,  with  a  sharp  and  somewhat  prolonged  aspirate  on 
the  second  syllable,  thus  rendering  either  of  those  words, 
which  have  become  its  common  names,  very  distinctly;  but 
in  order  to  get  the  exact  effect,  the  words  must  be  pro- 
nounced just  so, — with  just  such  an  emphasis  and  intona- 
tion. Before  hearing  the  note,  neither  of  the  above  names 
37 


578  TOWHEE  BUNTING. 

would  be  so  pronounced  as  to  give  any  idea  of  the  sound 
which  they  may  so  precisely  imitate  when  properly  enun- 
ciated. Every  now  and  then  the  male  will  mount  a  con- 
spicuous bush,  tree,  or  stub,  preferably  a  dry  tree-top,  and 
sing  for  some  time  his  monotonous  ditty, — who-he-tit-it-it-it- 
it-it-it,  which,  though  by  no  means  strikingly  musical,  is 
still  a  pleasing  sound  amid  the  voices  of  the  early  spring. 

Classed  with  the  Sparrows  in  the  Fringillida  family, 
and  hence  a  thick-billed  sead-eating  bird,  it  is  also  fond 
of  insects  and  their  larvae,  and  works  diligently  for 
them. 

The  nest,  formed  in  May,  is  quite  secretively  placed  on 
the  ground, — at  the  root  of  a  bush,  under  a  log,  under 
the  edge  of  a  brush-pile,  or  in  a  thick  bunch  of  grass; 
the  site  being  so  well  excavated  as  to  sink  the  rim  nearly 
or  quite  level  with  the  surface.  The  structure  is  bulky,  of 
dried  leaves  and  shreds  of  bark,  being  lined  with  fine 
grasses.  The  4-6  eggs,  about  .92X.72,  and  quite  roundish, 
are  greenish  or  grayish-white,  finely  specked  and  spotted 
all  over  with  reddish-brown  and  lilac.  This  species  sum- 
mers from  the  Carolinas  to  Northern  New  England  and 
corresponding  latitudes,  and  winters  from  the  Carolinas  to 
about  the  middle  of  Florida. 

Residing  permanently  throughout  the  winter  habitat  of 
the  above  species,  is  the  White-eyed  Towhee  (P.  leucopis), 
differing  from  the  former  "  in  being  smaller  and  in  having 
less  white  on  the  tail.  This  never  extends  over  more  than 
three  pairs  of  the  tail  feathers  and  does  not  occupy  the 
entire  width  of  the  outer  web,  but  has  a  narrow  line  of 
black  next  to  the  shaft.  The  white  of  the  wings  is  also  less 
extended.  The  chestnut  is  much  paler,  but  the  most  notice- 
able difference  in  the  living  specimen  is  the  white  eye.  The 
females  may  be  distinguished  at  once  by  the  slaty  tint  of 


THE  FOX-COLORED   SPARROW.  579 

the  portions  which  are  black  in  the  males."  The  notes  of 
these  birds  are  said  to  be  quite  different  from  those  of  the 
former  species,  sounding  likejo-ree,  the  emphasis  being  de- 
cidedly on  the  last  syllable,  the  note  giving  the  popular 
name  Joree  to  the  species. 

THE    FOX-COLORED    SPARROW. 

During  the  month  of  April,  in  my  first  year  of  ornitho- 
logical study  in  the  locality  now  under  review,  I  made  my 
first  acquaintance  with  the  Fox-colored  Sparrow  (Passerella 
iliaca).  I  did  not  then,  nor  at  any  time  since  in  my  several 
localities  of  observation,  find  it  in  any  considerable  num- 
bers. Occasionally  during  March  or  early  April,  a  small  flock, 
or  more  commonly  a  single  individual,  may  appear  in  a 
stealthy  migration.  Like  the  Chewink,  it  follows  the  bram- 
ble-grown fences  along  the  edges  of  woods  and  thickets, 
dodges  in  and  out  in  the  most  coy  and  wary  manner, 
scratches  among  the  leaves,  and  on  some  slight  disturbance, 
hops  up  on  an  eminence  and  surveys  the  surroundings  with 
a  quiet  caution.  During  such  times  it  has  a  soft  tsip,  tsip, 
as  a  sort  of  conversational  note;  this,  in  case  of  alarm,  may 
become  a  sharp  chuck,  chuck. 

Having  passed  the  latitude  of  47°,  it  spends  its  summer 
in  a  sparrow-like  manner,  and  returns  during  October  and 
November  to  spend  the  winter  anywhere  between  New  Jer- 
sey and  Florida,  becoming  rare  in  the  latter  State,  and  not 
reported  beyond.  Audubon's  account  of  its  breeding  habits 
in  Labrador,  and  Maynard's  history  of  the  same  in  the 
Magdalen  Islands,  are  in  complete  harmony.  The  nest  is 
placed  on  the  ground,  under  the  drooping  limbs  of  the 
thick  evergreens.  It  is  large  and  bulky,  composed  of  dry 
grass  and  moss,  and  is  lined  with  fine  grass  and  feathers. 
Eggs,  oval  in  form,  4-5,  pale-green,  specked,  spotted,  and 


580  THE  FOX-COLORED    SPARROW. 

blotched  with  reddish-brown  and  lilac.  Sometimes  the 
markings  are  quite  heavy.  Size,  .85  X.62-.86X.65. 

It  will  thus  appear  that  this  largest  of  our  Sparrows  is 
a  most  hardy  species;  scarcely  more  than  the  herald  of 
winter,  as  it  returns  from  its  boreal  summer  resorts,  passing 
the  inclement  months  barely  beyond  the  zone  of  continued 
ice  and  snow,  and  seeking  its  northern  climes  again  with 
the  first  glow  of  early  spring.  It  is  one  of  the  few  song- 
birds, for  which  we  may  look,  along  with  the  passage  of 
the  Wild  Geese  and  Ducks.  It  is  pre-eminently  a  song-bird. 
Audubon  bears  the  most  unqualified  testimony  to  the  power 
and  charm  of  its  melodies  on  the  bleak  coasts  of  Labrador; 
and  Maynard  is  no  less  enthusiastic  over  "the  magnificent 
song  of  the  male  filling  the  clear,  still  air  with  melody"  as 
he  listened  to  it  in  the  Magdalen  Islands.  He  says:  "These 
fine  strains  consist  at  first  of  three  clear,  rather  rapid  notes, 
given  with  increasing  ertiphasis,  then  a  short  pause  ensues, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  lay  is  poured  forth  more  delib- 
erately, terminating  with  a  well  rounded  note,  giving  a 
finish  to  a  song  which,  for  sweetness  and  clearness  of  tone, 
is  seldom  surpassed  even  by  our  best  performers."  The 
loitering  migrants,  in  the  more  genial  days  of  April,  give  a 
fine  prelude  to  the  summer  song.  How  these  birds  will 
cheer  the  Indian  summer,  in  common  with  many  other  birds, 
with  the  subdued  echoes  of  their  earlier  songs,  has  been 
noted  by  all;  even  in  January,  in  the  south,  the  little  flocks, 
disporting  in  secluded  sunny  nooks,  lisp  their  subdued 
melodies. 

Some  7.10  long,  and  11.25  in  extent,  the  crown  is  slaty, 
streaked  with  rufous;  upper  parts  generally,  including 
wings  and  tail,  rufous,  brightest  on  the  rump;  ear-coverts, 
and  more  or  less  variable  marks  on  the  throat,  rufous;  tri- 
angular spots  on  the  upper  part  of  the  breast,  light  red,  the 


THE  BLUE-GRAY  GNAT-CATCHER.  581 

darker  triangular  spots  lower  down,  and  the  streaks  on  the 
sides  being  almost  dark  brown;  wing-coverts,  slightly 
whitened;  upper  mandible  brown;  lower  yellow. 

THE  BLUE-GRAY  GNAT-CATCHER. 

Occasionally,  in  Northern  Ohio,  the  nervous  flitting 
of  the  Blue-gray  Gnat-catcher  (Polioptila  cosrulea)  would 
attract  me.  This  is  about  the  northern  boundary  of  its 
habitat,  but  it  extends  westward  to  the  Pacific,  and  is  strictly 
migratory.  Only  4.50  long,  and  much  of  this  lineal  dimen- 
sion consisting  of  the  tail,  it  is  but  6.00  in  extent.  The 
color  is  bluish-gray  above  and  bluish-white  below;  head 
bluest,  with  black  front  and  eye-brows  in  the  male;  wings 
brownish-black,  with  secondaries  near  the  body  edged  with 
white;  the  tail,  which  is  longer  than  the  body  and  a  little 
rounded,  black;  the  exterior  feathers  white  nearly  to  the 
base,  and  the  next  two  tipped  with  white;  the  very  slender 
bill,  overhanging  and  notched  at  the  tip,  broad  and  bristled  at 
base,  and  so  resembling  that  of  the  Flycatcher;  legs  long, 
slender  and  black.  Warbler,  Titmouse  and  Flycatcher  in 
movement,  it  is  in  the  main  a  Warbler  in  structure;  its 
diminutive  body,  however,  and  long  rounded  tail  giving 
it  a  rather  Tom-tit  appearance;  its  plain  drab-like  colors 
also  remind  one  of  the  Titmice.  Its  common  note,  tsee,tsee, 
tsee,  is  much  like  that  of  the  Kinglet,  but  its  soft,  sweet 
warble  is  peculiar  to  itself.  It  is  one  of  the  subdued  and 
tender  vocalists  of  our  woodlands. 

The  most  striking  feature  of  this  little  favorite  is  its  ele- 
gantly artistic  nest.  Placed  on  a  limb,  or  in  the  top  of  a 
tree,  anywhere  from  ten  to  fifty  feet  from  the  ground,  it  is 
closely  felted  together  of  the  softest  materials  of  the  forest — 
bud-scales,  dried  blossoms,  and  the  delicate  cottony  sub- 
stance which  envelops  the  unfolding  fronds  of  ferns,  with 


582  THE    YELLOW-BREASTED   CHAT. 

flexible  skeletons  of  leaves,  as  an  external  framework  of  the 
wall  of  felt,  and  a  few  slender,  wiry  circles  of  horse-hair, 
perhaps,  to  make  the  soft  interior  symmetrical.  Often, 
perhaps  generally,  the  nest  is  so  placed  that  when  it  is  re- 
moved from  its  limb  or  crotch,  the  lower  part  of  the  inverted 
conical  form  is  truncate,  or  nearly  bottomless,  excepting  the 
soft  lining.  The  rim  of  the  nest  is  generally  contracted  or 
"  purse-like,"  rendering  the  eggs  secure  in  heavy  winds. 
But  the  most  marked  feature  of  this  structure  is  its  orna- 
mentation. The  whole  exterior  is  closely  covered  with 
small,  brightly  colored  lichens — commonly  of  a  greenish- 
gray.  Thus  the  nest  of  this  species  is  more  beautiful  than 
that  of  the  Wood  Pewee,  and  fully  equal  to  that  of  the 
Hummingbird.  Like  these,  it  is  in  such  close  conformity 
to  the  lichen-covered  limb  on  which  it  is  placed  as  to  seem 
a  mere  natural  excrescence.  Very  fine  grasses  and  vege- 
table downs  constitute  the  body  of  the  nest.  The  4-6  eggs, 
some  .58X.44,  are  roundish,  and  bluish-white,  thickly 
and  prettily  specked  with  dark-brown  and  lilac  all  over. 

THE    YELLOW-BREASTED    CHAT. 

In  the  locality  now  under  consideration,  I  first  made  the 
acquaintance  of  that  eccentric  bird,  the  Yellow-breasted 
Chat  (Icteria  virens).  Some  7.00  long  and  9.00  in  extent, 
and  somewhat  resembling  the  Tanagers  in  form,  it  has  the 
whole  upper  parts  of  a  rich,  deep  olive-green;  tips  of  the 
wings  and  inner  vanes  of  the  wing  and  tail-feathers,  dusky; 
throat  and  breast,  brilliant  yellow,  this  color  also  washing 
the  sides  and  lining  the  wings;  belly  and  vent,  white;  front, 
slaty  or  dusky;  lores,  black;  eye-brow,  and  nearly  all  the 
eye-lid,  and  spot  at  the  gape,  white.  The  sexes  are  scarcely 
distinguishable. 

This  beautiful  and  interesting  species  resorts  to  the  past- 


THE    YELLOW-BREASTED  CHAT.  583 

ures  overgrown  with  brambles  and  bushes,  and  to  the 
thickets.  Here,  with  every  facility  for  concealment,  it  de- 
lights to  tantalize  the  most  patient  observer  with  its  weird, 
ventriloquial,  and  almost  endlessly  varied,  vocal  perform- 
ances. There  are  soft,  subdued  notes,  half  whisper,  half 
whistle;  then  abrupt,  explosive  sounds,  reminding  one  of 
the  rattling  loquacity  of  the  Catbird  or  the  Thrasher;  these 
again  are  succeeded  by  deep,  guttural  chucks,  as  of  certain 
Thrushes  or  Blackbirds;  or  there  may  be  the  most  sprightly 
twittering,  or  a  cawing  and  mewing — and  all  these  so  hur- 
ried and  closely  connected,  and  in  such  a  variety  of  tones  and 
modulations,  as  almost  to  bewilder  and  astound  the  listener. 
Meanwhile  the  bird  keeps  for  the  most  part  wholly  out  of 
sight,  and  in  its  concealment  changes  places  so  rapidly  as 
to  keep  the  listener  on  the  most  excited  alert.  He  knows 
not  where  to  expect  the  next  burst  of  merriment,  and  when 
it  breaks  upon  him  he  is  equally  at  a  loss  where  to  locate 
it.  During  moonlight  nights,  and  especially  before  the 
arrival  of  the  females,  this  strange  vocal  exercise  may  be 
heard  at  almost  any  time  between  the  twilights. 

If  you  should  approach  its  haunts  in  the  nesting  period, 
the  bird  may  mount  almost  perpendicularly  into  the  air; 
and  with  dangling  feet  and  legs,  and  an  abundance  of  excited 
noise,  perform  the  most  ludicrous  gesticulations.  Occa- 
sionally it  will  seem  to  abandon  its  coyness,  and  mounting 
to  the  top  of  some  bare  stump,  in  open  sight,  will  give  its 
recitative  as  fearlessly  as  a  Chewink. 

The  nest,  but  a  few  feet  from  the  ground,  and  ensconced 
away  in  the  brambles  and  thickets,  is  rather  bulkily  built  of 
dried  leaves  and  strips  of  fibrous  bark,  and  lined  with  fine 
rootlets  and  grasses.  The  3-4  eggs,  1.00  X  .80,  are  round- 
ish, of  a  delicate  flesh-color,  spotted  and  specked  with  light 
brown  or  red,  mostly  at  the  large  end.  I  once  found  the 


584  THE  BLACK-THROATED  BUNTING. 

Cowbird's  egg,  with  a  large  hole  in  the  side  of  it,  lying  on 
the  ground  beneath  this  nest.  Probably  the  spirited  Chat,  in 
indignation  over  this  imposition  of  an  interloping  parasite, 
had  stuck  its  bill  into  the  egg  and  ousted  it. 

The  Yellow-breasted  Chat,  subsisting  on  insects  and  ber- 
ries, reaches  the  middle  districts  in  May,  extending  to 
New  Jersey  and  the  lower  Hudson,  Northern  Ohio  and  cor- 
responding localities  westward,  and  returning  to  the  south 
in  August.  On  the  High  Plains,  west,  it  is  replaced  by  the 
Long-tailed  Chat. 

THE    BLACK-THROATED    BUNTING. 

To  the  student  of  nature,  the  identification  of  even  the  most 
established  facts  is  ever  a  fresh  surprise.  No  matter  how 
fully  Wilson,  Audubon,  and  the  more  recent  ornithologists 
may  have  reported  our  birds,  my  acquaintance  with  each 
species  has  been  almost  as  delightful  a  novelty  as  if  I  had 
been  the  first  to  discover  and  describe  it.  Of  all  the  Spar- 
rows which  find  their  habitat  in  Northern  Ohio,  the  last  one 
to  respond  to  my  search  was  the  Black-throated  Bunting 
(Euspiza  americana).  I  had  long  been  on  the  alert  for  it,  when 
one  evening  at  sunset,  as  I  was  riding  by  a  rich  clover  field 
on  low  clayey  ground,  I  heard  a  new  song  in  a  tree  by  the 
road.  Chic-chic-chttac-chick-chick-chick,  and  chick-ticktshe-chick- 
chick-chick,  in  loud,  explosive  tones,  recalls  that  song  still 
vividly  to  my  ears.  "A  Black-throated  Bunting,  I'll  bet," 
said  I  to  my  companion,  who  carried  the  gun;  "out,  and 
let's  have  it."  While  he  climbed  out  of  the  buggy  and 
made  ready  to  shoot,  I  noted  the  gesticulations  of  the  bird 
as  it  sang  most  enthusiastically  on  a  topmost  spray  and  in 
the  blaze  of  the  evening  light.  With  head  uplifted  till  he 
stood  quite  perpendicular,  and  with  drooping  wings  and 
tail,  he  fairly  shook  himself  in  the  ardor  of  his  utterance. 


THE  BLACK-THROATED  BUNTING.  535 

The  report  of  the  gun  interrupted  the  song;  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  fallen  bird,  warm,  and  quivering  with  the 
last  throes  of  life,  was  in  my  hand.  "How  cruel!"  many 
would  exclaim.  "Yes,"  from  one  point  of  view;  but  most 
emphatically,  "no,"  from  another.  True,  every  life  which 
God  has  ordered  is  precious,  and  "not  a  Sparrow  falleth  to 
the  ground  without  Him;"  but  is  not  the  bird  or  beast  of 
prey,  by  the  law  of  its  nature,  under  necessity  of  subsisting 
on  innocent  lives  ?  And  has  not  my  thirst  for  knowledge 
greater  claim  than  the  craw  of  a  Hawk?  Besides,  as  Dr. 
Brehm  has  well  said,  to  die  in  the  midst  of  one's  song  is  a 
death  which  even  a  poet  might  crave. 

But  to  my  bird.  He  is  a  beauty.  With  a  peculiarly 
thick,  but  not  unsightly,  bill,  he  is  rather  long  and  slender 
for  a  Sparrow.  About  6.50  long;  forehead,  greenish-olive; 
nape  and  neck,  bluish-ash;  eye-brows  and  moustache,  yel- 
low, continuing  for  some  distance  in  white  lines;  chin, 
white;  throat,  black;  breast,  yellow;  upper  parts  after  the 
manner  of  the  Sparrows,  with  a  bright  patch  of  chestnut- 
red  on  the  shoulder;  under  parts,  dull-white.  This  is  the 
coloring  of  the  male.  The  female  lacks  the  black  throat, 
the  bright  red  patch  on  the  shoulder,  and  has  a  mere  tinge 
of  the  yellow  parts;  she  has,  moreover,  a  noticeably  narrow, 
dark  streak  of  about  half  an  inch  at  the  lower  corners  of 
the  mandible,  and  narrow  broken  streaks  of  brown  on  the 
breast. 

If  I  am  not  mistaken,  the  female  has  a  song — one  differ- 
ent from  that  of  the  male,  though  I  cannot  now  describe  it. 
One  afternoon,  as  a  friend  and  I  were  ransacking  a  field  oc- 
cupied by  these  birds,  in  search  of  their  nests,  we  noticed 
a  female,  singing  in  a  bush.  My  comrade  was  a  good  marks- 
man, and  took  deliberate  aim,  and,  as  we  thought,  the  bird 
dropped.  After  searching  the  spot  thoroughly,  however, 


586  THE  BLACK-THROATED  BUNTING. 

we  found  no  bird.  Presently  we  heard  the  same  song  in  a 
bush  near  by,  and  having  a  good  view  of  the  bird,  fired  as 
before,  again  seeing  it  fall,  as  we  thought,  but  once  more 
failing  to  find  it.  The  same  illusion  was  repeated,  at  another 
point,  the  third  time,  and  only  after  the  fourth  shot  did  we 
take  the  bird.  This  was  something  I  never  could  explain. 

Evidently  Audubon  was  mistaken  as  to  the  nest  and  eggs 
of  this  species.  The  nest  is  a  loose  and  bulky  structure, 
some  3  inches  deep  and  5  in  diameter  externally;  internal 
diameter  2.50  and  depth  2.00;  composed  of  grasses,  weed- 
stalks,  and  such  other  coarse  vegetable  material  as  the 
locality  may  afford,  and  lined  with  fine  grasses,  finished 
generally  with  horse-hair.  It  is  sometimes  placed  in  a  tus- 
sock of  grass,  but  generally  a  few  feet  from  the  ground  in 
a  bush  or  hedge,  or  it  may  even  be  five  feet  from  the  ground 
in  a  small  tree.  The  4-5  eggs,  some  .75  X. 60-85  X. 62,  and 
so  about  the  size  of  the  Bluebird's  eggs,  are  generally  so 
nearly  like  them  in  color  as  to  be  indistinguishable. 
Generally,  however,  they  are  a  shade  darker,  and  occa- 
sionally are  specked  with  dark  brown  or  blackish. 

This  species  seems  inclined  to  a  local  habitat,  choosing 
level  fields  of  rich  meadow,  with  heavy  or  clayey  soil.  It  is 
said  to  be  rare  in  sandy  regions.  On  the  whole,  it  is  rather 
southern  in  its  range.  Wintering  outside  of  our  boundaries, 
and  entering  the  Middle  States  early  in  May,  or  certainly 
by  the  middle,  it  reaches  the  Connecticut  Valley,  Northern 
Ohio — I  have  never  seen  it  in  the  northern  counties  of 
Western  New  York — and  corresponding  latitudes  as  far 
west  as  Nebraska  and  Colorado.  It  breeds  throughout  its 
range,  and  is  much  more  abundant  in  the  south  and  south- 
west than  at  the  north,  which  latter  part  it  leaves  certainly 
by  August.  The  food  of  this  species  is  that  of  its  family 
in  general — seeds  and  insects. 


THE   GOLDEN  EAGLE.  587 

_THE    GOLDEN    EAGLE. 

Among  the  earliest  reminiscences  of  my  ornithological 
studies,  are  the  screams  and  screeches  of  a  very  fine  speci- 
men of  the  Golden  Eagle  (Aquila  chrysaetus),  kept  in  a 
large  cage  out  of  doors  by  a  young  scientific  amateur  in 
my  neighborhood.  It  had  been  taken  from  the  nest  when 
quite  young,  I  think,  and  reared  in  confinement.  It  was  a 
grand  pet,  and,  in  its  solitary  gambols  and  sports  about 
the  cage,  was  a  very  interesting  study. 

The  average  length  of  the  female  of  this  species  is  given 
as  57.45,  and  the  stretch  as  85.00.  Average  length  of  male, 
32.50;  stretch,  83.00.  General  color,  dark-brown,'  tinged 
with  purplish;  wings,  tail  and  under  parts,  darker;  head, 
neck,  shoulders,  tibia  and  tarsus,  lighter,  and  tipped  and 
Qdged  with  yellowish  or  golden-brown,  thus  giving  some 
propriety  at  least  to  the  common  name.  The  base  of  the 
tail  is  white.  The  young  are  similar,  but  lighter  in  all  re- 
spects, and,  with  about  two-thirds  of  the  tail  at  base,  white. 
In  the  intermediate  stages  the  tail  may  be  white  and  brown 
mottled.  The  young,  with  the  white  tail  deeply  banded 
with  dark  brown,  is  the  Ring-tailed  Eagle  of  the  earliest 
ornithologists.  This  species  may  always  be  distinguished 
by  its  tarsus  feathered  to  the  toes. 

Grand  as  our  Common  or  White-headed  Eagle  is  con- 
ceded to  be,  he  is  but  a  commonplace  and  vulgar  bird 
compared  with  the  present  species.  Indeed;  the  Golden 
Eagle  is  the  noblest  bird  of  our  continent.  Disdaining  car- 
rion, except  in  extreme  hunger,  and  all  ordinary  pilfering 
and  predatory  habits,  he  subsists,  it  would  seem;  on  the 
noblest  game,  such  as  hares,  grouse,  young  fawns  and 
wild  turkeys.  Nor  does  he  condescend  to  chase  his  prey, 
and  capture  it  only  after  a  hot  pursuit,  after  the  manner  of 
Hawks  and  Falcons,  but,  detecting  it  afar  with  his  keen  eye, 


588  THE   GOLDEN  EAGLE. 

swoops  down  upon  it  from  some  obscure  height,  and  takes 
it  by  surprise.  Then  bearing  it  away  to  an  elevated  point, 
in  a  tree  or  on  a  ledge  of  a  high  rock,  he  plucks  it  clean, 
and  eats  at  leisure.  The  loftiest  mountains  are  his  home, 
and  on  the  shelvings  of  their  most  rugged  precipices  he 
locates  his  eyrie.  Occasionally  he  may  make  a  detour  into 
the  settled  parts  of  the  country,  soaring  high,  and  in  slow, 
wide  and  most  majestic  circles;  or,  if  he  pass  from  one 
mountain  height  to  some  other  in  the  distance,  it  is  by  the 
highest  possible  pathway  in  the  sky.  If  he  be  in  certain 
stages  of  plumage,  with  good  eyes,  and  the  light  favorable, 
one  may  distinguish  him,  as  a  great  rarity,  by  the  dark  band 
on  his  white  tail.  But  generally,  if  one  would  study  him,  one 
must  go  to  the  uninhabited  and  almost  uninhabitable  parts 
of  the  earth,  far  above  the  ordinary  planes  of  animated 
nature,  and  there  contemplate  him  in  the  sublimest  solitude. 
As  he  climbs  to  the  very  clouds,  and  penetrates  "  behind 
the  veil  of  the  storm,"  even  the  mountains  are  low  down 
in  respect  to  him,  and  he  seems  to  know  and  care  but  little 
about  the  world.  He  who  shoots  a  Golden  Eagle  secures 
a  rare  trophy,  and  may  be  assured  that  he  will  not  repeat 
his  success  very  often  in  a  life-time.  Though  seldom  seen, 
they  are  not  considered  as  rare  on  the  continent;  and  it  may 
be  doubted,  indeed,  whether  there  are  any  fewer  of  them 
"  to-day  in  Eastern  North  America  than  there  were  when  the 
Pilgrims  landed  at  Plymouth."  In  fact,  such  is  their  ele- 
vation above  the  ordinary  range  of  human  life,  so  nearly 
inaccessible  are  their  breeding  places,  and  such  is  their 
wariness  and  sagacity,  that  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  a 
time  when  their  numbers  may  be  seriously  impaired,  or 
their  habits  or  habitat  essentially  modified.  The  nest  of 
this  species  is  on  the  most  inaccessible  points  of  huge 
mountain  walls;  it  is  bulky,  and  rudely  built  of  sticks, 


THE   GOLDEN  EAGLE.  58$ 

and  lined  with  weeds,  or  any  of  the  softer  materials  avail- 
able The  eggs,  1-3,  about  2.90X2.25,  elliptical  or  spherical, 
are  dull  or  creamy-white,  generally  spotted  and  blotched 
with  brown,  sometimes  unspotted. 

Concerning  the  manner  in  which  the  Golden  Eagle 
teaches  its  young  to  fly,  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  says: — "  I 
once  saw  a  very  interesting  sight  above  the  crags  of  Ben 
Nevis.  Two  parent  Eagles  were  teaching  their  offspring, 
two  young  birds,  the  maneuvers  of  flight.  They  began 
by  rising  from  the  top  of  the  mountain  in  the  eye  of 
the  sun.  It  was  about  midday,  and  bright  for  the  climate. 
They  at  first  made  small  circles,  and  the  young  birds  imi- 
tated them.  They  paused  on  their  wings,  waiting  till  they 
had  made  their  flight,  and  then  took  a  second  and  larger 
gyration,  always  rising  towards  the  sun,  and  enlarging  their 
circle  of  flight,  so  as  to  make  a  gradually  ascending  spiral. 
The  young  ones  still  and  slowly  followed,  apparently  flying 
better  as  they  mounted;  and  they  continued  this  sublime 
exercise,  always  rising  till  they  became  mere  points  in  the 
air,  and  the  young  ones  were  lost,  and  afterwards  their 
parents,  to  our  aching  sight."  This  is  written  concerning 
the  European  Golden  Eagle,  which  is  very  similar  to  ours. 

Dr.  Rush,  in  his  lectures  on  "  The  Effects  of  Fear  on  Man," 
says  : — "  During  the  revolutionary  war,  a  company  of  sol- 
diers were  stationed  near  the  highlands  of  the  Hudson 
River.  A  Golden  Eagle  had  placed  her  nest  in  the  cleft  of 
the  rocks  half  way  between  the  summit  and  the  river.  A 
soldier  was  let  down  by  his  companions,  suspended  by  a 
rope  fastened  around  his  body.  When  he  reached  the  nest, 
he  suddenly  found  himself  attacked  by  the  Eagle.  In  self- 
defense  he  drew  the  only  weapon  about  him,  his  knife,  and 
made  repeated  passes  at  the  bird,  when  accidentally  he  cut 
the  rope  almost  off.  It  began  unraveling;  those  above 


590  THE    TURKEY  BUZZARD. 

hastily  drew  him  up,  and  relieved  him  from  his  perilous  sit- 
uation at  the  moment  when  he  expected  to  be  precipitated 
to  the  bottom.  The  doctor  stated  that  so  powerful  was  the 
effect  of  the  fear  the  soldier  had  experienced  whilst  in 
danger,  that  ere  three  days  had  elapsed  his  hair  had  become 
quite  gray."  (Audubon.) 

THE    TURKEY    BUZZARD. 

Fresh  as  of  yesterday,  among  the  early  reminiscences  of 
bird-life  in  Northern  Ohio  is  the  magnificent  flight  of  the 
Turkey  Buzzard  (Cathartes  aura).  How  smoothly  and 
noiselessly  have  I  seen  its  great  figure  glide  over  the  fields 
and  through  the  open  woods,  avoiding  every  obstacle,  as  it 
curved  from  side  to  side  and  rose  and  fell  with  the  utmost 
ease  and  gracefulness.  Most  impressive  of  all,  however, 
were  its  grand  circles,  with  almost  motionless  wings,  as  it 
climbed  to  the  most  exalted  regions  of  flight.  Sometimes 
I  could  see  as  many  as  a  dozen,  on  some  clear  sunny  morn- 
ing in  June,  intersecting  their  wide  and  slowly  described 
circles,  at  so  great  a  height,  that  but  for  one's  knowledge  of 
the  size  of  the  birds,  they  might  have  been  mistaken  for  some 
small  species  of  the  feathered  tribes.  I  know  of  few  things 
more  tranquilizing  and  suggestive  of  sublime  thoughts  than 
such  a  sight  as  this.  But  from  this  grand  point  of  elevation 
there  is  but  a  step  to  the  most  degraded  and  filthy  associa- 
tions. I  am  reminded,  after  all,  that  these  are  nothing  but 
"  dirty  Buzzards  ;"  and  by  that  most  potent  law  of  the  mind, 
the  association  of  ideas,  my  nostrils  are  regaled  with  the 
vilest  odors,  and  my  eyes  recall  the  most  unsightly  forms  of 
carrion.  I  transfer  these  birds  of  lofty  flight  to  the  ground, 
and  think  of  them  as  cramming  their  craws  with  putrid 
flesh,  and  moping  around  like  drowsy  gluttons  till  digestion 
has  labored  through  the  nauseous  mass;  or,  on  some  dis- 


THE    TURKEY  BUZZARD.  591 

turbance  to  the  bird,  till  the  surplus  is  vomited  up,  thus  en- 
abling it  to  fly.  There  is  good  evidence,  however,  that  it 
does  not  resort  to  carrion,  when  its  capacious  stomach  can 
be  appeased  with  a  sufficient  quantity  of  better  flavored 
flesh.  Moreover,  its  filthy  feeding,  under  the  ravenous 
necessities  of  hunger,  renders  it  invaluable,  in  the  warmer 
zones  of  its  habitat,  as  a  scavenger. 

Notwithstanding  the  interesting  experiments  of  Audubon, 
there  is  good  evidence  of  the  olfactory  capacity  of  this  as 
of  all  the  rest  of  the  Vultures.  The  nerves  of  smell  are 
well  developed.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  in  seeking 
their  supplies  of  food  at  a  distance,  they  are  guided  by  the 
eye  much  more  than  by  the  sense  of  smell.  There  is  much 
force  in  the  words  of  Job:  "There  is  a  path  which  no  fowl 
knoweth,  and  which  the  Vulture's  eye  hath  not  seen."  "The 
Vulture,"  says  Tristram,  "can  detect  the  path  of  a  wounded 
deer  from  a  height  where  it  can  itself  be  descried  by  no 
human  eye.  The  process  is  probably  this:  The  Griffon- 
vulture,*  which  first  detects  the  quarry,  descends  from  his 
elevation  at  once;  another,  sweeping  the  horizon  at  a  still 
greater  distance,  observes  his  neighbor's  movements,  and 
follows  his  course;  a  third,  still  farther  removed,  follows 
the  flight  of  the  second;  he  is  traced  by  another,  and  thus 
a  perpetual  succession  is  kept  up,  so  long  as  a  morsel  of 
flesh  remains  over  which  to  consort.  Thus,  on  great  battle- 
fields, and  during  sieges,  as  at  that  of  Sebastopol,  immense 
numbers  of  Vultures  were  congregated  in  a  few  hours, 
where  the  bird  was  comparatively  scarce  before.  During 
the  Crimean  war,  the  whole  race  from  the  Caucasus  and 
Asia  Minor  seemed  to  have  collected  to  enjoy  so  unwonted 
an  abundance.  The  Arabs  of  North  Africa  declare  that 
at  that  time  very  few  'Nissi'  (Vultures)  were  seen  in  their 

*This  an  abundant  species  in  Palestine. 


592  THE   TURKEY  BUZZARD. 

accustomed  haunts,  and  believe  that  they  were  all  gathered, 
even  from  the  Atlas,  to  feed  on  Russian  horses."  (Natural 
History  of  the  JBible.)  This  eminent  naturalist  further 
adds  concerning  the  Vultures:  "Their  enormous  capacity 
for  food,  combined  with  the  power  of  long  abstinence,  is  a 
wonderful  provision  of  creative  wisdom  for  carrion  feeders, 
whose  supply  is  so  uncertain,  while  the  necessity  for  the 
immediate  removal  of  offensive  matter  is  so  urgent."  Our 
Turkey  Buzzard  extends  its  northern  habitat  to  the  south 
of  Lake  Erie  and  corresponding  latitudes.  It  is  a  rather 
frequent  straggler  in  Southern  New  England,  and  Pro- 
fessor Charles  Linden  has  recently  seen  it  near  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 
The  Southern  Middle  and  the  Southern  States  are  the  chosen 
habitat  of  this  species.  There  it  resides  in  great  num- 
bers. 

As  to  the  nidification  of  this  species,  Mr.  Maynard  says  : 
"  Nests,  placed  on  the  tops  of  stumps,  on  logs,  on  ruined 
buildings,  in  hollow  trees,  or  on  the  ground;  but  little  or  no 
material  is  used.  Eggs,  one  or  two  in  number,  varying  from 
elliptical  to  oval  in  form,  dirty  white  or  creamy  in  color, 
spotted  and  blotched  irregularly,  but  sometimes  more  thickly 
on  the  large  end,  with  reddish-brown  and  umber.  Dimen- 
sions, from  1.80X2.65  to  1.90X2.75." 

Female,  27.25  long,  and  75.00  in  extent;  male,  26.75 
long,  and  67.00  in  extent;  the  sexes  are  similar,  being 
dark-brown  throughout,  with  a  bluish  gloss  or  irides- 
cence, the  feathers  of  the  wings  being  edged  with  lighter; 
the  head  is  unfeathered,  after  the  manner  of  the  Vul- 
tures, the  red  skin  being  corrugated  and  beset  with  a  few 
bristly  feathers  ;  feet,  flesh-colored  ;  bill,  white.  In  size 
and  form,  and  somewhat  in  color,  this  carrion-eater  bears 
no  small  resemblance  to  our  Turkey.  The  nestlings  make 
their  first  appearance  in  a  dirty  white  down. 


THE  HERONS.  593 

The  Black  Buz-zard  of  the  south  (Cathartes  atratus), 
some  26  inches  long  and  58  in  extent,  is  brownish-black, 
lighter  on  the  wings.  It  has  a  slight  nest  on  the  ground, 
the  eggs,  1  or  2,  being  creamy-white,  heavily  marked  with 

brown. 

KIRTLAND'S  WARBLER. 

I  never  met  Kirtland's  Warbler,  but  some  of  the  most 
valuable  of  my  first  ornithological  instructions  were  given 
privately  and  informally  by  Dr.  Kirtland,  so  that  it  is  very 
proper  to  note  here  his  interesting  discovery  of  this  bird 
(Dendr&ca  kirtlandi),  shot  near  Cleveland,  Ohio,  in  1851. 
Since  that  time,  five  more  of  the  same  species  have  been 
taken  in  Ohio;  two  at  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.;  and  one  on  the 
Bahama  Islands,  near  which,  at  sea,  the  first  specimen  of  the 
kind  had  been  found,  some  ten  years  before  Dr.  Kirtland 
identified  and  described  it. 

This  large  Warbler,  some  5.50  in  length,  and  quite  robust 
in  form,  is  bluish-ash  above,  "  narrowly  streaked  on  crown, 
and  more  broadly  on  back,  with  black;  forehead,  lores  and 
space  beneath  eye,  black;  eye-lids,  two  narrow  bands  across 
wings,  and  patch  on  inner  webs  of  two  outer  tail-feathers, 
white;  under  parts,  clear  yellow,  becoming  nearly  white  on 
under  tail-coverts,  with  spots  in  band  across  breast,  and 
streaks  on  sides,  black.  *  *  *  Female  similar,  but  much 
paler  beneath,  slightly  over-washed  above  with  reddish, 
and  the  dark  markings  are  much  more  restricted."  The 
color  and  markings  of  this  species  are  every  way  similar 
to  those  of  the  Canada  Warbler,  but  the  form  is  not 
that  of  a  Flycatching  Warbler,  but  of  a  Dendrceca. 

THE   HERONS. 

Strongly  characterized  among  birds  are  the  Herons  and 
their  relatives.  They  are  at  once  the  giants  and  the  fisher- 

38 


594  THE  HERONS. 

men  among  the  Waders.  Even  the  Godwits,  Willets  and 
Curlews  are  but  pigmies  as  compared  with  their  larger  rep- 
resentatives; and  no  species  of  Plover,  Snipe  or  Sandpiper 
has  a  bill  at  all  adapted  to  seizing  fish.  The  long,  slender- 
pointed  bill  of  the  Heron  is  a  most  effective  spear;  his  stilt- 
like  legs  are  long  enough  to  bear  him  out  to  sufficient  depths 
to  reach  his  prey;  and  the  length  of  his  many  jointed,  sinu- 
ous neck  is  equal  to  that  of  his  legs.  His  eye  is  keen,  his 
wings  are  immense,  and  his  body,  as  compared  with  the 
size  of  his  members,  is  astonishingly  small.  The  toes,  the 
outer  one  of  which  is  considerably  palmated,  are  long 
enough  to  support  so  light  a  body  on  the  mire  and  the  soft 
ooze.  The  structure  of  the  foot  is  strictly  that  of  the 
perching  bird,  and  so  accustomed  are  these  birds  to  stand- 
ing on  one  foot,  with  the  other  drawn  up  into  the  feathers, 
that  the  one  foot  is  often  much  larger  than  the  other.  The 
beak,  cleft  as  far  as  the  eyes,  opens  a  gullet  sufficiently 
large  to  admit  a  fair-sized  fish.  The  patch  of  naked  skin, 
including  the  eyes,  extends  to  the  base  of  the  bill.  The 
plumage  is  of  a  loose,  crape-like  structure;  and  there  are 
long,  pointed  and  pendent  feathers  about  the  lower  neck 
and  breast,  also,  in  most  cases,  on  the  back.  Moreover,  this 
class  of  birds  has  two  curious  items  of  structure  as  yet 
wholly  unexplained — the  pectinated  or  comb-shaped  inside 
edge  of  the  middle  claw,  and  the  thickened,  yellow,  hair- 
like  appendages,  or  powder-down,  on  the  breast.  Some 
have  affirmed  that  the  latter  is  phosphorescent,  and  so  affords 
a  luminous  attraction  for  fishes  at  night. 

These  birds  frequent  shallow  streams,  flats,  swamps  and 
marshes,  generally  building  platform  nests,  of  sticks  and 
other  coarse  materials,  for  the  most  part  in  trees,  and  gen- 
erally breeding  in  communities;  the  flat  nests  being  neces- 
sary to  accommodate  the  long  legs  of  the  parent  bird  while 


THE  HERONS.  595 

sitting,  as  also  those  of  the  young,  which  remain  in  the  nest 
until  they  are  well  grown.  The  three  to  five  eggs,  small 
for  the  size  of  the  bird,  are  oval,  and  of  a  clear,  light  blu- 
ish or  greenish  tinge.  The  callow  young  are  reared  in  the 
nest  with  the  most  lavish  feeding.  Greedy,  gluttonous  and 
sluggish,  but  exceedingly  shy  and  wary,  most  species  of  this 
group  are  by  no  means  easy  of  approach.  They  are,  for 
the  most  part,  birds  of  the  warmer,  or  at  least  of  the  milder, 
climates. 

Having  treated  of  the  Great  Blue  Heron,  and  of  the  Bit- 
terns elsewhere,  I  may  mention  the  Night  Heron  (Nyctiardea 
grisea  var.  ncem'a)  as  a  noticeable  bird  in  some  parts  of  my 
locality.  Visiting  St.  Clair  Flats  in  May  and  June,  as  my 
boat  glided  along  the  various  channels  intersecting  the  par- 
tially submerged  tracts  of  tall  sedges,  which  appeared  like 
immense  fields  of  ripened  grain,  I  would  every  now  and 
then  put  up  this  fine  Heron,  as  if  startled  from  its  feeding 
grounds.  It  would  generally  start  before  I  came  within 
gun-shot,  and  rising  high,  would  fly  far  away.  On  fine 
sunny  mornings  there  were  sometimes  dozens  together, 
high  in  air  over  the  beautiful  forests  of  Dickinson's  Island, 
cutting  large  and  stately  circles,  wheeling  round  and  round, 
with  scarcely  a  flap  of  the  wings,  after  the  manner  of 
Buzzards.  I  could  get  no  clue  to  their  nesting  place,  but 
they  must  have  been  breeding  near  by.  On  the  ground, 
this  species  has  none  of  the  stately  movements,  or  stock- 
still  standing  in  awaiting  its  prey,  so  peculiar  to  the  Herons 
proper.  In  the  language  of  Audubon,  "it  walks  in  a  stoop- 
ing posture,  the  neck  much  retracted,  until  it  sees  its  prey, 
when,  with  a  sudden  movement,  it  stretches  it  out  and 
secures  its  food."  It  is  a  hunter  after  tadpoles,  frogs,  fishes, 
small  crustaceans  and  various  water-insects.  Like  others 
of  its  kind,  it  delights  to  traverse  pools  and  marshes  in  the 


596  THE  HERONS. 

morning  and  evening  twilight,  but  it  is  also  very  frequently 
abroad  in  full  daylight.  Its  common,  hoarse  note — "qua" 
has  given  it  the  name  "Qua-bird,"  to  the  northward. 

Observers  in  the  Southern  States  attest  to  the  abundant 
breeding  of  this  species  in  large  communities,  their  flat  nests, 
built  of  sticks,  being  placed  in  trees  and  bushes,  anywhere 
from  near  the  ground  to  the  tops  of  tall  trees.  In  New 
England,  on  the  Hudson  as  far  north  as  Saratoga,  and  in 
corresponding  latitudes,  it  breeds,  in  large  communities,  in 
the  same  style  as  in  the  south;  and  it  is  now  well  known  that 
it  tarries  late,  and  may  even  winter  in  the  middle  districts. 

The  eggs  of  this  species,  about  four  on  an  average,  some 
2.12X1.50,  are  oval  or  oblong-ovate,  and  of  a  clear,  light 
bluish-green  color.  The  flattish  nest,  built  of  sticks,  etc., 
after  the  usual  manner  of  Herons,  is  generally  very  filthy 
after  the  young  are  out. 

Some  24.75  long  and  44.60  in  extent,  the  neck  and  legs 
are  not  so  long  as  those  of  the  Herons  proper;  the  bill  is 
thick  at  the  base,  compressed,  tapering  and  very  pointed, 
and  has  the  upper  outline  noticeably  curved — this  form  of 
the  bill  being  peculiar  to  the  Night  Herons.  The  color  of 
the  soft,  blended  plumage  is  especially  chaste  and  elegant. 
The  tufty  crown  and  the  smoothly-laid  back  are  dark 
glossy-green;  forehead  and  anterior  of  the  neck,  white; 
breast  and  abdomen,  and  the  lower  elongated  feathers, 
creamy- white;  posterior  of  the  neck,  a  beautiful  gray  drab, 
tinged  with  lilac;  wings  and  tail,  gray  drab;  bill,  black; 
legs,  and  space  around  the  eyes,  yellow;  the  large  eyes, 
bright  red;  the  several  long,  slender  and  elegant  plumes 
springing  from  the  crown  in  the  breeding  season,  pure 
white.  The  young  are  striped  and  mottled  with  various 
shades  of  brown  and  white,  and  require  several  years  to 
reach  the  colors  of  maturity. 


THE    GREAT   WHITE  EGRET.  597 

Closely  related  to  the  above  is  the  Yellow-crowned  Night 
Heron  (Nyctiardea  violaced].  Some  22  inches  long  and 
about  41  in  extent,  it  is  a  little  smaller  than  the  Common 
Night  Heron,  and,  excepting  the  plumage,  its  structure 
is  very  similar.  The  back  and  head  are  furnished  with  long 
and  elegant  lanceolate  plumes.  The  general  color  is  a  pale, 
ashy-blue,  the  feathers  of  the  back  and  wings  being  dusky, 
edged  with  pale  or  light-ash;  upper  part  of  the  neck  and 
the  head,  blue-black;  the  white  crown,  including  the  long 
upper  plumes  of  the  crest,  is  tinged  with  yellow  in  the 
breeding  season;  there  is  a  white  patch  on  the  cheek;  eyes, 
yellow;  bill,  black;  feet  and  legs,  black  and  yellow.  The 
young  are  greenish-brown  above,  with  light  spots  and 
streaks,  and  grayish-white,  streaked  with  brown,  below. 

This  southern  species,  regularly  reaching  the  Carolinas, 
and  wintering  in  Southern  Florida,  like  others  of  its  kind, 
breeds  in  community,  often  placing  its  nest  in  very  tall  trees. 

Grandest  of  all  the  Herons,  and  prince  among  Waders, 
is  the  Great  White  Heron  (Ardea  occidental  is]  of  Florida  Keys. 
Some  47.50  long  and  72.50  in  extent,  it  is  noticeably  larger 
than  even  the  Great  Blue  Heron.  Of  the  purest  white 
throughout,  the  feathers  of  the  crown,  neck  and  breast  are 
long  and  loosely  lanceolate;  bill,  iris  and  legs,  yellow;  feet, 
dusky-green;  exceedingly  shy  and  wary,  and  remote  from 
the  habitations  of  man;  slow  and  stately  in  all  its  move- 
ments, it  impresses  one  with  an  idea  of  purity,  elegance  and 
dignity.  The  nest  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Great  Blue 
Heron,  the  light  bluish-green  eggs  being  some  2.42x1.82. 

THE    GREAT    WHITE    EGRET. 

Among  the  most  conspicuous  and  beautiful  of  the  birds 
of  this  class  are  the  Egrets,  of  which  we  have  several  rep- 
resentatives in  our  more  southern  latitudes.  Except  in  the 


598  THE   GREAT    WHITE  EGRET. 

structure  of  certain  ornamental  plumes,  to  which  the  name 
Egret,  from  the  French  "aigrette,"  refers,  they  have  no 
differentiation  in  form,  but  in  all  respects  are  Herons.  The 
Great  White  Egret  (Ardea  egrettd),  sometimes  called  White 
Heron,  is  one  of  our  finest  birds  of  this  kind.  Some  38.25 
long  and  55.00  in  extent,  it  is  a  large  and  stately  bird,  of 
purest  white,  and  during  the  breeding  season  has  a  most 
elegant  train  of  long  filamentous  plumes,  flowing  from  the 
back  over  the  wings  and  tail.  The  iris,  bill  and  lores  are 
bright  yellow;  and  the  legs  are  black. 

One  of  the  most  characteristic  traits  of  this  bird,  as  also 
of  its  class,  is  the  gathering  at  some  remote  roosting  place 
at  night.  The  student  of  their  habits  may  easily  imagine 
a  like  scene  to  that  so  finely  exhibited  in  the  younger 
Brehm's  picture  of  the  "  Settling  of  the  Storks  at  Night." 
The  inimitably  bright  and  gorgeous  hues  of  the  sunset 
have  not  only  glorified  the  clouds  from  horizon  to  zenith, 
but  have  tinged  every  cubic  inch  of  atmosphere,  and  re- 
flected themselves  in  every  object  of  the  landscape.  In 
some  secluded  thicket  or  swampy  woodland,  silently  re- 
flected in  the  glassy  streams  and  ponds  around,  flocks  of 
these  large  snowy  birds,  with  slow  and  steady  beat  of  wings 
and  in  graceful  floating  trains,  appear.  The  more  distant 
flocks  have  their  necks  drawn  up  upon  their  breasts,  and 
their  long  legs  extended  out  behind;  those  nearer  are  be- 
ginning to  hold  their  broad  wings  rigidly  extended,  as  they 
prepare  to  lower  themselves;  those  nearer  still,  with  out- 
spread wings,  and  long  neck  and  legs  more  or  less  stretched 
out,  are  settling  toward  the  woods  and  waters,  while  others 
still  are  already  adjusting  themselves  on  the  lower  and 
higher  perches.  Every  movement  is  most  elegant  and 
graceful,  and  indicates  the  most  complete  sense  of  seclusion, 
safety  and  sweet  contentment;  while  the  brilliant  lights, 


THE   GREAT    WHITE  EGRET.  599 

which  fill  the  air,  "are  throwing  soft  but  lambent  tints  of 
rose,  amber  and  gold  on  the  snowy  forms.  They  emit  no 
sound,  except  the  occasional  subdued  croak  of  rather  un- 
musical voices,  but  the  sight  is  most  beautiful  and  suggestive. 

The  nightly  repose  over,  the  morning  finds  them  astir. 
"  Their  rough  notes  are  uttered  more  loudly  than  in  the 
evening,  and  after  a  very  short  lapse  of  time  they  spread 
their  snowy  pinions,  and  move  in  different  directions,  to 
search  for  fiddlers,  fish,  insects  of  all  sorts,  small  quadru- 
peds or  birds,  snails  and  reptiles,  all  of  which  form  the  food 
of  this  species."  Each  flock  having  reached  its  mud-flat 
or  sand-bar,  the  day  is  spent  between  food  and  repose. 
If  it  be  the  approach  of  the  breeding  season,  their  "tour- 
nament or  dress-ball  "  occurs.  The  males,  with  swollen 
throats  and  gurgling  notes,  strut  about  the  females,  raising 
their  snowy  plumes  in  the  most  elegant  and  graceful  man- 
ner. Jealous  conflicts  may  occur,  the  scene  of  wooing  last- 
ing from  the  middle  of  the  forenoon  till  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon,  or  from  after  the  morning  meal  till  that  of  the 
evening.  Except  in  the  breeding  season,  these  birds  are  very 
shy  and  unapproachable;  then,  breeding  in -community,  as  is 
the  manner  of  their  order,  about  the  islands  and  the  coast, 
indeed,  but  more  commonly  about  the  lakes  a  few  miles  in 
the  interior,  the  broad,  flat  nest,  placed  on  a  bush  or  tree 
over  the  water,  is  loosely  made  of  sticks,  and  repaired  from 
year  to  year  contains  2-4  elliptical  to  oval-formed,  pale 
bluish-green  eggs,  some  2.28x1-50.  Wintering  from  the 
Carolinas  southward,  but  never  wandering  far  from  the  sea- 
coast,  this  species  migrates  regularly  as  far  north  as  New 
Jersey,  and  has  been  found  as  a  straggler  even  in  New 
Brunswick. 

How  can  we  conceive  of  anything  more  chaste  and  ele- 
gant than  the  Little  White  Egret,  or  Snowy  Heron  (Ardca 


600  THE  REDDISH  EGRET. 

candidissima),  which  has  a  rather  more  southerly  habitat  than 
the  former,  and  is  some  23.75  long  and  38.00  in  extent.  The 
loose  filamentous  plumes  of  the  head,  back  and  breast  are 
gracefully  recurved;  its  entire  plumage  of  dazzling  white- 
ness is  set  off  by  the  orange-yellow  of  the  iris,  lores  and  legs, 
and  its  bill  tipped  with  black.  In  form,  it  seems  almost 
ethereal;  in  color,  pure  as  the  glittering  snow;  in  carriage 
and  flight,  graceful  as  the  floating  down  or  the  fleecy  cloud. 
Breeding  in  quite  large  communities,  placing  its  rather 
small  and  slightly  hollowed  nest,  which  is  loosely  built  of 
sticks,  on  trees  and  bushes  which  stand  in  and  near  the 
water,  this  species  lays  2-4  eggs,  1.82X1.22,  elliptical  or 
oval,  and  of  a  pale  greenish-blue. 

Next  in  the  commonly  received  order  of  classification  is 
the  Louisiana  Heron  or  Egret  (Ardea  ludovidana) .  Some 
25.50  long  and  35.39  in  extent,  the  form  is  particularly  slen- 
der and  graceful,  and  the  plumes  on  the  back  and  breast 
are  long  and  filamentous;  it  is  ashy-blue  above,  the  neck 
tinged  with  deep  chestnut;  the  plumes  on  the  back  of  the 
head,  and  the  line  down  the  neck,  are  reddish  and  white; 
the  throat  is  creamy,  and  the  under  parts  are  white.  The 
nidification  is  after  the  manner  of  its  tribe,  the  eggs  being 
about  1. 78  XI. 35 

THE    REDDISH    EGRET. 

A  most  interesting  bird  of  this  class  is  the  Reddish  Egret 
(Ardea  rufa),  the  young  of  which,  according  to  the  prepon- 
derance of  authority,  is  white,  and  requires  several  years  to 
reach  its  mature  color,  while  some  individuals  remain  white 
always.  Some  30  inches  in  length,  and  40  or  more  in 
extent,  the  mature  bird  is  grayish-blue,  lighter  beneath; 
the  head  and  neck  being  reddish-brown,  tinged  with  lilac  or 
violet;  iris,  white;  base  of  bill  and  naked  space,  light  purple; 


THE  GREEN  HERON.  601 

the  tip  of  bill,  black;  legs  blue,  with  black  scales.  In  the 
immature  birds,  the  bill  is  similar  to  the  above,  and  the  legs 
are  greenish.  The  quite  young  lack  the  plumes,  which  in 
the  mature  bird  are  most  elegant.  Even  in  the  more  ad- 
vanced stages  of  the  white  plumage,  the  ornamental  plumes 
are  so  fine  that  some  pronounce  the  white  bird  the  most 
elegant  of  all  the  Herons.  The  young  was  first  called 
Peal's  Egret,  and  is  still  so  called  by  some  who  believe  it 
to  be  a  distinct  species.  The  nests,  built  in  community, 
after  the  manner  of  the  Herons,  are  made  of  sticks,  and 
placed  on  trees  or  bushes,  and  contain  2-4  bluish-green  eggs, 
elliptical,  1.45X1.95.  Wintering  in  Florida,  this  species 
ranges  in  summer  from  the  Carolinas  to  Key  West. 

Very  common  on  the  interior  lakes  and  rivers  of  Florida, 
and  in  many  parts  of  the  Southern  States,  is  the  Little  Blue 
Heron  (Ardea  ccerulea}.  Rather  small,  some  22  inches  long 
and  38  in  extent,  of  a  dark  slaty-blue,  with  head  and  neck 
tinged  with  violet,  it  is  especially  quick  and  agile  in  move- 
ment, swift  in  flight,  and  very  shy  except  on  its  breeding 
grounds. 

The  2-4  eggs  are  elliptical,  or  oval,  and  dark  bluish- 
green.  The  young  are  white,  with  tips  of  primaries  and 
crown  tinged  with  blue.  Passing  through  every  stage  of 
blue  mottling,  it  takes  several  years  to  reach  the  complete 
blue  livery;  and  from  white  to  blue,  through  all  intermedi- 
ate stages,  they  may  be  seen  breeding  together,  a  white  one 
sometimes  being  mated  with  a  mature  one,  as  is  also  the 
case  with  the  Reddish  Egret. 

THE    GREEN    HERON. 

In  the  first  fascinating  charms  of  my  ornithological 
studies  I  stumbled  on  the  Green  Heron  (Ardea  virescens}. 
Throughout  the  Union,  along  inland  streams  and  about 
ponds  and  marshes,  it  is  the  most  common  and  familiar  of 


602  THE  GREEN  HERON. 

its  kind.  Outraged  by  a  most  vulgar  and  distasteful  name, 
it  is  nevertheless  an  elegant  bird.  About  1.50  long  and 
24.00  in  extent,  the  crested  crown  and  upper  parts,  a  glossy 
dark  green,  sometimes  iridescent  with  bronze;  the  lanceo- 
late feathers  of  the  back,  glaucous;  wing  feathers,  edged 
with  reddish  or  white;  neck,  chestnut-red;  throat  and  stripe 
down  the  front  of  the  neck,  white,  spotted  and  streaked  with 
dusky;  beneath,  ashy-gray,  streaked  with  white  and  tinged 
with  reddish;  iris  and  feet,  yellow;  naked  space  in  front  of 
the  eye  and  bill,  brown  and  yellow.  The  young  are  similar, 
lacking  the  plumes,  the  upper  parts  being  more  tinged  with 
reddish,  and  the  neck  streaked. 

Wandering  through  an  orchard  near  a  stream,  early  in 
June,  I  was  startled  by  a  spatting,  rushing  sound,  in  the  top 
of  an  apple-tree  near  by.  Failing  to  see  the  cause  of  the 
noise,  I  climbed  into  the  tree,  and  discovered  what  was 
then  to  me  a  very  strange-looking  nest.  Flat,  and  loosely 
built  of  small,  clean  twigs,  it  contained  five  pale-green  eggs, 
some  1.15  X  1.55,  and  about  fresh.  Sitting  down  under  a 
tree  near  by,  I  soon  saw  the  bird  return  to  the  nest;  and 
shooting  it,  found  it  to  be  the  Green  Heron.  Never  shall  I 
forget  how  odd  it  looked,  flying  about  the  trees  with  out- 
stretched neck,  its  long  legs  dangling  out  behind.  Often 
since  I  have  seen  it  gracefully  stepping  about  shallow  pools, 
and  among  the  grass  along  the  banks  of  streams  and 
ponds,  searching  for  small  fishes,  snails,  tadpoles  and 
leeches.  Again  I  have  seen  it  light  on  the  tops  of  bushes 
in  the  swamps  with  all  the  ease  and  firmness  of  a  regular 
perching  bird;  and  have  heard  its  low-toned  qnak,  quak. 

The  summer  habitat  of  this  bird  extends  but  little  be- 
yond the  United  States;  and  in  the  south,  where  it  winters, 
it  often  breeds  in  community.  Many  spend  the  winter 
south  of  the  Union,  and  return  in  large  flocks  in  early 
spring,  migrating,  for  the  most  part,  by  night. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
GLEANINGS. 

HAVING  studied  our  birds  in  the  order  of  the  seasons, 
and  grouped  them  about  certain  localities,  there  remain 
some  which  do  not  come  readily  into  any  of  the  previous 
chapters.  They  are  but  few,  and  most  of  them  are  mere 
outlying  species  of  the  field  which  I  have  chosen;  and  as  I 
wish  to  make  this  book  a  complete  manual,  within  the  reach 
of  every  one,  its  necessary  limits  will  restrict  the  account  of 
those  which  follow  to  great  brevity. 

Taking  them  in  the  order  of  their  classification,  we  come 
first  to  the  famous  Mockingbird  (Mimus pollyglottus)  of  the 
Southern  States.  Some  9.50  long,  gray  above,  white  below) 
with  breast  and  sides  tinged  with  gray;  wings  and  tail,  dark- 
brown,  the  former  with  bars  and  base  of  primaries,  also  the 
tips  and  edgings  of  the  wing  feathers  generally,  white;  the 
latter  with  an  outer  feather  on  ea'ch  side,  and  a  mark  on  the 
two  following,  white.  The  male  has  more  white  in  the 
primaries  than  the  female.  The  marvelous  capacity  of  this 
species  for  imitation  is  truly  a  wonder  in  bird-life.  Giving 
the  notes  and  songs  of  the  Sparrow,  the  Goldfinch,  the  Blue 
Jay  and  the  Robin,  in  the  same  breath,  it  imitates  almost 
any  sound  within  hearing,  even  voicing  fairly  the  notes  of 
a  piano.  Indeed,  it  will  so  render  the  songs  of  other  birds 
as  positively  to  excel  them  in  musical  power  and  sweetness, 
so  that  the  performance  of  the  birds  themselves  will  sound 


604  GLEANINGS. 

tame  and  spiritless  in  comparison.  Moreover,  the  Mocking- 
bird's own  song,  thrown  in  here  and  there  in  the  medley  of 
other  songs,  or  sometimes  given  singly,  would  itself  be 
enough  to  distinguish  the  singer.  Its  nest  is  in  a  bush  or 
tree,  and  contains  some  5  eggs,  pale  greenish-blue,  spotted 
and  blotched  with  different  shades  of  brown  and  lilac.  Size, 
.97X.73.  It  is  resident  in  the  Southern  States  in  great 
abundance,  as  far  north  as  Virginia,  and  occasionally  strag- 
gles into  New  England. 

Bewick's  Wren  (Troglodytes  bewicki},  some  5.50  long,  is 
also  a  southern  species,  reaching  as  far  north  as  Pennsyl- 
vania. Having  the  general  color  and  appearance  of  the 
Common  Wren,  it  is  distinguishable  by  the  ashy  under  parts 
and  the  white  markings  in  the  tail,  its  manner  of  nesting 
being  similar  to  that  of  the  former. 

The  Prothonotary  Warbler  (Protonotaria  citrad)  is  a 
southern  species,  most  common  in  the  regions  about  the 
lower  Mississippi,  as  Southern  Illinois,  and  strays  to  New 
England.  About  5.50  long,  the  color  is  bright,  golden-yel- 
low, paler  underneath,  olivaceous  on  the  back;  rump,  wings 
and  tail,  bluish-ash.  The  nest  is  in  holes  in  trees,  and  in 
analogous  situations;  the  4-6  eggs,  .68X.57,  are  white, 
spotted  with  reddish  and  lilac. 

The  Worm-eating  Warbler  (Helmitherus  vermivorus)  is 
found  in  the  southern  and  middle  parts  of  Eastern  North 
America,  straying  occasionally  to  New  England.  Though 
not  rare  in  Central  New  York,  it  does  not  appear  to  be 
abundant  anywhere.  About  5.50  long,  the  general  color 
buffy,  with  back  olive,  and  belly  whitish,  it  may  be  recog- 
nized by  four  black  stripes  on  the  head — two  from  the  bill 
along  the  sides  of  the  crown  to  the  nape,  one  on  each  side 
of  the  head  through  the  eye.  Nest,  on  the  ground.  Eggs, 
some  .73X.56,  white,  marked  with  reddish-brown. 


GLEANINGS.  605 

Swainson's  Warbler  (Helmitherus  swainsont)  belongs  to 
the  South  Atlantic  States,  and  is  very  rare.  Some  6.00  long, 
bill,  long,  stout  and  pointed,  tail,  short  and  slightly  rounded, 
it  is  brown  above  and  buffy  below,  with  a  whitish  eye-brow. 
It  has  no  distinct  markings  on  the  head. 

Bachman's  Warbler  (Helminthophaga  bachmani),  4.50  long, 
yellowish-green  above,  ashy  on  crown;  forehead  and  under 
parts,  bright  yellow;  mark  across  the  crown,  throat  and 
upper  breast,  black;  two  outer  tail  feathers  marked  with 
white.  The  one  obtained  near  Charleston,  South  Carolina, 
and  reported  by  Audubon,  was  the  only  one  known,  until 
the  case  of  nidification,  discovered  by  the  late  Dr.  Wilson, 
of  Georgia,  some  time  between  1853  and  1865,  and  recently 
reported  by  H.  B.  Baily.  (See  the  Nuttall  Bulletin,  Jan., 
1883.) 

.  The  Yellow-throated  Warbler  (Dendrceca  dominica),  some 
5.25  long  and  8.25  in  extent,  is  slaty-blue  above;  the 
crown  and  sides  of  the  head,  black,  the  latter  marked  with 
white;  the  throat  and  upper  part  of  the  breast,  bright  yel- 
low. The  bill  is  long  and  slightly  curved,  and  the  species 
has  much  the  habits  of  the  Creepers.  It  is  a  southern 
species,  wintering  in  Florida  and  beyond,  and  migrating 
into  Virginia. 

The  Yellow  Red-poll  Warbler  (Dendrceca  palmaruni], 
about  5.56  long  and  7  77  in  extent,  is  yellowish-olive 
above,  brownish  on  the  wings  and  tail;  the  latter  marked 
with  white;  crown,  chestnut;  the  breast  and  sides  marked 
with  dark  red.  The  female  is  a  little  less  strongly  colored 
and  marked.  Wintering  in  the  Southern  States  and  in  the 
West  Indies,  it  reaches  New  England  already  in  April, 
breeding  from  Northern  New  England  and  Nova  Scotia  to 
Hudson's  Bay.  The  nest  is  on  the  ground;  the  eggs,  .67  X 
.54,  being  dull  white,  marked  with  pale  brown. 


606  GLEANINGS. 

The  Pine  Warbler  (Dendrccca  pinus),  some  5.50X8.85,  is 
olive-green  above  and  yellow  below;  the  wings  and  tail 
dusky,  the  former  barred,  and  the  latter  marked  with  white. 
This  is  another  early  migrant,  having  about  the  same  habi- 
tat as  the  former.  The  nest  is  well  up  in  a  tree,  the  bluish- 
white  eggs,  marked  with  brown,  measuring  about  .70X-49. 

The  Connecticut  Warbler  (Oporornis  agilis)  is  yellowish- 
green  above  and  yellow  beneath;  crown,  sides  of  the  head, 
throat  and  upper  breast,  ashy.  It  is  a  rare  species,  breed- 
ing from  Maine  northward,  and  wintering  beyond  our 
limits. 

The  Kentucky  Warbler  (Oporornis  formosus)  is  5.35  long 
and  8.84  in  extent;  yellowish-green  above,  and  bright  yel- 
low beneath;  crown  and  markings  on  the  sides  of  the  head 
and  neck,  black.  This  is  a  rather  southern  species,  most 
common  about  the  Mississippi,  and  breeding  regularly  as 
far  north  as  Southern  Illinois  and  Indiana.  The  nest  is  near 
the  ground,  the  white  eggs,  marked  with  light-brown,  meas- 
uring .71  X-52. 

Bachman's  Finch  (Peuccea  cestivalis] —  some  5.75  long,  re- 
sembling the  Yellow-winged  Sparrow  above,  but  with  the 
plain  brownish-gray  shades  beneath,  darker  on  the  breast 
and  sides,  and  with  light-grayish  spots  on  the  outer  feathers 
of  the  tail — is  a  species  of  the  Southern  States. 

The  beautiful  Lark  Finch  (Chondestes  grammacd] —  about 
6.75  long,  something  like  the  Fox  Sparrow  above  and  slightly 
shaded  with  grayish-brown  beneath,  the  head  finely  marked 
with  chestnut,  black  and  white  —  is  a  western  species,  now 
found  as  far  east  as  Michigan. 

The  Painted  Finch,  or  Nonpareil  (Cyanospiza  a'n's),  of  the 
South  Atlantic  or  Gulf  States,  is  only  5.50  long;  has  the 
head  and  neck  rich  blue  ;  rump,  eye-lids  and  under  parts' 
bright  red;  back  and  wing-coverts,  yellowish-green;  wings 


GLEANINGS.  607 

and  tail,  purplish.  The  female  is  green  above,  and  yellow- 
ish beneath.  This  brilliant  anomaly  among  Sparrows  is  very 
shy,  and  is  a  sweet  singer. 

The  Carolina  Parroquet  (Conurus  carolinensis),  13  inches 
long,  with  green  body,  yellow  head  and  red  face,  once  abund- 
ant in  the  Southern  States,  is  now  becoming  local  and  rare. 

The  Barn  Owl  (Strix  flammea  var.  americana),  recently 
taken  on  Navy  Island,  in  Niagara  River,  is  about  17  inches 
long,  the  face  particularly  round  and  expressive;  the  legs 
long,  slender  and  hairy ;  general  color,  tawny,  mottled  or 
marbled  with  dark  brown,  ash  and  white.  It  is  a  southerly 
species. 

That  elegant  little  Hawk  Owl  (Surnia  ulula  var.  hud- 
sonia),  16  inches  long,  brown  above,  specked  with  white, 
finely  cross-barred  with  brown  and  whitish  below,  and 
wings  and  tail  with  numerous  white  bars — is  a  northern 
species,  occasionally  found  in  Western  New  York  in  winter. 
With  small  head  and  rather  diurnal  in  its  habits,  it  bears 
quite  a  relation  to  the  Hawks.  (See  portrait  on  frontispiece.) 

The  Everglade  Kite  (Rosthramus  sociabilis],  of  Florida, 
bears  quite  a  resemblance  to  the  Marsh  Hawk.  Its  gen- 
eral color,  however,  is  much  darker — the  male  blackish — 
and  a  little  smaller;  its  long,  hooked  bill  is  "  extremely  slen- 
der /'  the  tail  is  emarginate;  and  the  bare  part  of  the  tarsus 
is  shorter  than  the  middle  toe.  By  these  points  it  may  be 
readily  differentiated.  The  nest,  of  sticks,  weeds,  etc.,  and 
lined  with  grasses,  is  placed  in  bushes,  and  contains  2  eggs, 
1.50  X  1.65,  bluish-white,  heavily  marked  with  varying  shades 
of  brown. 

The  Mississippi  Kite  (Ictinia  mississippiensis),  found  in  the 
South  Atlantic  and  Gulf  States,  is  some  13.70  long  and 
35.00  in  extent;  color,  dark  bluish-ash,  lighter  on  the  head, 
neck  and  under  parts,  and  becoming  greenish-black  on  the 


608  GLEANINGS. 

wings  and  tail;  quills  of  the  primaries  and  adjoining  parts 
of  the  webs,  rich  chestnut;  the  sexes  alike.  The  nest  is  in 
trees;  the  2  or  3  eggs,  some  1.51x1-31,  are  roundish,  green- 
ish-white and  "  thickly  spotted  and  blotched  with  deep 
chocolate-brown  and  black."  (Maynard.) 

The  White-tailed  or  Black-shouldered  Kite  (Elanus  leucu- 
rus),  of  the  "  South  Atlantic  and  Gulf  States,  California 
and  southward,  chiefly  coastwise,"  is  white,  with  a  gull-like 
curtain  of  ashy-gray  over  the  back  and  wings,  excepting  the 
wing-coverts,  which  are  black.  Length,  15.50;  extent,  39.50. 
The  nest,  in  low  trees,  contains  4-6  eggs,  roundish,  white, 
heavily  marked  with  several  shades  of  brown.  Not  com- 
mon in  its  easterly  range. 

The  elegant  Swallow-tailed  Kite  (Nauclerus  furcatus]  is 
an  abundant  summer  resident  in  the  Southern,  and  rarely 
reaches  the  Middle  States.  Some  22.00  long  and  46.00  in 
extent,  its  graceful  forked  tail  is  more  than  a  foot  in  length. 
The  head,  neck  and  under  parts  are  white,  with  shafts  of 
the  feathers  of  the  head,  neck  and  breast,  black;  the  upper 
parts,  including  the  tail,  black,  glossed  with  green.  Whether 
skimming  the  surface,  gliding  over  the  bushes  and  tree-tops, 
or  circling  high  in  air,  the  flight  of  this  species  is  strikingly 
beautiful.  Stooping  to  capture  a  snake,  he  will  carry  it 
high  in  air,  and  devour  it  at  his  leisure  while  on  the  wing. 
The  nest,  in  high  tree-tops,  and  neatly  made  of  sticks,  weeds 
and  tillandsia,  is  lined  with  grasses,  and  contains  4-6  eggs, 
1.85X1.49,  oval,  greenish-white,  heavily  marked  with  brown 
of  several  shades. 

The  Jerfalcon  (Falco  sacer),  21-23  inches  long,  white,  with 
dark  markings  like  the  Snowy  Owl,  or  dusky,  cross-barred 
with  whitish,  is  an  extremely  arctic  species  of  circumpolar 
distribution,  rarely  reaching  New  England  in  winter. 

The  famous  Wild  Turkey  (Meleagris  gallopavo),  very  well 


GLEANINGS.  609 

represented  by  the  largest,  darkest  and  most  brilliant  speci- 
mens of  our  domesticated  Turkey,  was  formerly  of  general 
distribution  in  Eastern  North  America,  but  is  rapidly  disap- 
pearing from  the  more  cleared  and  cultivated  parts.  Our 
more  common  and  lighter  domesticated  specimens  are  the 
descendants  of  the  Mexican  variety. 

The  Willow  Ptarmigan  (Lagopus  albus),  some  16  inches 
long,  white,  with  a  black  tail,  in  winter,  and  dark  in  summer, 
is  a  bird  of  British  America,  occasionally  reaching  the 
northernmost  parts  of  the  United  States.  The  Rock  Ptar- 
migan (L.  rupestris),  similarly  colored  in  winter  and  in 
summer,  except  the  black  line  through  the  eye,  is  a  little 
smaller,  and  much  more  boreal  in  habitat. 

Wilson's  Plover  (^Egialitis  wilsonia) — some  7.50  long,  ashy- 
brown  above;  band  on  the  crown  and  belt  around  the  breast, 
black  (grayish-brown  in  the  female  and  young);  under 
parts,  and  forehead,  and  eye-brows,  white — is  a  southern 
species,  reaching  New  Jersey  in  the  north. 

The  Oyster  Catcher  (Hamatopus  palliatus]  has  about  the 
same  habitat  as  the  former.  About  17.50  long,  with  a  long 
wedge-shaped  bill;  the  head  and  neck  are  blackish;  the  back 
grayish-brown;  under  parts  from  the  breast,  rump,  most  of 
the  secondaries,  tips  of  large  wing-coverts  and  base  of  tail, 
white ;  bill  and  eye-lids,  red  or  orange  ;  legs,  flesh-color. 
The  nest  is  a  hollow  in  the  sand,  with  a  little  grass;  the  2-4 
eggs,  2.20X1.52,  oval  in  form,  are  creamy  or  white,  heavily 
marked  with  brown. 

The  Avocet  (Recurvirostra  americand),  16.62  long,  long- 
legged  body,  white,  with  dark  red  head  and  neck,  and  back 
and  wings  mostly  black,  is  known  by  its  long,  slender, 
pointed,  decidedly  upturned  bill,  its  hind  toe  and  small 
webbed  feet.  This  curiously  formed  species  is  numerous 
west  of  the  Mississippi  in  summer,  breeding  abundantly  in 
39 


610 


GLEANINGS. 


the  northwest;  but  it  is  rare  to  the  eastward.  The  3  or  4 
eggs,  in  a  slight  depression  in  the  ground,  some  2.00X1.32, 
and  pointed,  are  olivaceous-drab,  thickly  but  not  very 
coarsely  marked  with  dark  brown. 

The  Stilt  (Himantopus  nigricollis],  some  14.60  long,  glossy 
black,  forehead,  sides  of  the  head  and  neck,  rump  and 
under  parts,  white,  is  more  or  less  common  to  the  United 
States  in  summer,  but  is  not  often  found  north  of  the  Caro- 
linas  on  the  eastern  coast.  The  nidification  is  similar  to 
that  of  the  former;  and  the  3  or  4  eggs,  some  1.65  X  1.20,  are 
very  nearly  the  same  in  coloration. 

The  Phalaropes,  three  in  number,  and  of  small  size,  are 
a  sort  of  membranous  or  lobe-footed  Sandpiper.  Wilson's 
Phalarope  (Phalaropus  wilsoni),  some  9  inches  long,  light- 
gray  above,  wings  brown,  the  dark  stripe  through  the  eye 
becoming  purplish-chestnut  on  the  sides  of  the  neck,  upper 


THE    HEAD    OF   WILSON'S   AND   THE   FOOT   OF   THE    NORTHERN    PHALAROPE. 

tail-coverts  and  under  parts,  white,  is  distributed  in  summer 
from  Kansas  to  the  Saskatchawan,  but  is  simply  a  rare  mi- 
grant in  the  east.  It  has  been  taken  in  Western  New  York 
in  the  fall.  It  has  the  membrane  on  the  toe  straight-edged. 
The  northern  Phalarope  (P.  hyperboreas]  is  about  7.50  long; 


GLEANINGS.  611 

grayish-brown  above,  mixed  with  chestnut  on  the  back  ;  ring 
around  the  neck  and  stripes  down  the  sides  of  it,  chestnut; 
tips  of  the  wing-coverts  and  under  parts,  white,  the  sides 
tinged  with  grayish  or  reddish;  feet,  lobed.  It  breeds  in 
Northern  North  America,  migrating  into  the  United  States 
in  winter.  The  Red  Phalarope  (P.  fulicarius),  7.75  long, 
has  the  under  parts  purplish-chestnut  of  varying  shades, 
white  in  young;  the  upper  parts  variegated  with  black  and 
light  red.  Its  feet  are  lobed,  and  the  bill  stout  and  flat 
It  winters  in  the  south,  spending  the  summer  in  the  arctics. 

The  Stilt  Sandpiper  (Micropalama  himantopus)  is  8.50  long; 
legs  long,  and  the  bill  sometimes  bent  upward  ;  blackish, 
marked  with  tawny  and  white,  above;  ear-patches,  chestnut; 
line  from  the  bill  to  the  eye,  dusky;  eye-brows,  reddish; 
upper  tail-coverts,  white,  barred  with  dusky;  under  parts, 
reddish,  marked  with  black  and  whitish.  It  winters  in  the 
West  Indies,  and  passes  through  the  United  States,  gener- 
ally, to  its  breeding  grounds  in  the  far  north. 

Baird's  Sandpiper  (Tringa  batrdt),  about  the  color  of  the 
Least  Sandpiper,  but  an  inch  or  two  longer,  is  rare  in 
Eastern  North  America. 

The  White-rum ped,  or  Bonaparte's  Sandpiper  {Tringa 
bonapartci},  about  the  size  of  the  former,  and  about  the  color 
of  the  Pectoral  Sandpiper,  except  the  black  bill  and  feet 
and  the  white  rump,  belongs  to  Eastern  North  America,  and 
is  common  on  the  Atlantic  in  the  migrations. 

The  Red-backed  Sandpiper  (Tringa alpina  var.  americand), 
8.50  long,  with  bill  slightly  bent  down  near  the  tip,  is  known 
by  its  red  back,  mottled  with  white  and  black,  and  its  black 
patch  on  the  belly,  in  summer;  in  winter,  and  in  the  young, 
the  upper  parts  are  ashy-gray,  the  under  parts  white.  It  is 
a  common  migrant  on  the  coast  and  in  the  interior  of  East- 
ern North  America. 


612  GLEANINGS. 

The  Red-breasted  Sandpiper,  Gray-back  or  Robin  Snipe 
(Tringa  conutus),  some  10.50  long,  has  the  usual  markings 
of  the  Sandpipers  above,  but  i's  known  by  its  brownish-red 
breast,  fading  into  white  on  the  flanks.  It  is  an  abundant 
migrant  on  the  Atlantic  Coast. 

The  Buff -breasted  Sandpiper  (Tryngites  rufescens),  about 
7.50  long,  with  a  very  short  bill,  is  known  by  the  delicate 
pale  reddish  of  the  sides  of  the  head,  neck  and  under  parts, 
and  by  the  fine  cross-penciling  of  dusky  or  white  on  the 
under  side  of  the  wing.  It  is  generally  distributed,  but 
not  common  in  Eastern  North  America. 

The  Long-billed  Curlew  or  Sickle-bill  (Numenius  longiros- 
tris),  the  total  length  of  which  is  about  2  feet,  and  colored 
somewhat  like  the  Marbled  Godwit,  may  always  be  known 
by  its  long,  downward-curved  bill,  6  or  8  inches  in  length. 
It  is  common  to  Eastern  North  America,  and  breeds  in  the 
northwest. 

The  Hudsonian  Curlew  (N.  hudsonicus) ,  some  17  inches 
long,  color  similar  but  paler  than  the  former,  ranks  next  in 
size  in  this  genus.  It  is  chiefly  a  migrant  in  the  United 
States. 

The  Esquimaux  Curlew  (N.  borealis),  several  inches  smaller 
than  the  former,  similar  in  color,  has  the  peculiar  bill,  short 
(less  than  3  inches)  for  the  genus.  As  indicated  by  its 
name,  it  is  but  a  migrant. 

The  Ibises,  somewhat  resembling  the  Herons  in  form,  are 
birds  of  the  south.  The  Wood  Ibis  (Tantalus  loculator)  is 
about  4  feet  long,  the  bill  curved  downward;  the  naked 
head  is  wrinkled  and  bluish,  legs  blue,  bill  pale-greenish, 
plumage  white,  except  the  tail  and  fore  part  of  the  wing, 
which  are  black.  The  elegant  Glossy  Ibis  (Ibis  faldncllus)  is 
two  feet  long,  "  plumage  rich,  dark  chestnut,  changing  to 
glossy,  dark  green,  with  purplish  reflections  on  the  head, 


GLEANINGS.  613 

wings  and  elsewhere."  The  White  Ibis  (Ibis  alba),  about 
the  size  of  the  last,  is  pure  white,  the  primaries  tipped  with 
glossy  black.  The  Scarlet  Ibis  (Ibis  rubra),  rich  scarlet,  the 
outer  primaries  tipped  with  black,  is  merely  accidental  in  the 
Southern  States. 

Closely  related  to  the  above  group,  and  of  the  same  size 
and  habitat,  is  the  Roseate  Spoonbill  (Platalea  ajajd}.  "  In 
full  plumage,  rosy-red,  whitening  on  neck;  lesser  wing- 
coverts,  tail-coverts  and  lower  throat,  crimson;  tail,  brown- 
ish-yellow; leg,  pale  carmine;  bare  head,  yellowish-green, 
with  a  dark  stripe;  bill  mostly  grayish-blue."  (Coues.) 

The  White  or  Whooping  Crane  (Grus  americanus),  about 
50  inches  long,  resembling  the  Herons  in  form,,  with  part  of 
the  head  nearly  bare  and  bill  very  stout,  plumage  white, 
except  the  fore  part  of  the  wings,  which  is  black — is  common 
in  the  extreme  south  in  winter,  and  breeds  in  the  northwest. 
The  Brown  or  Sandhill  Crane  (Grits  canadensis),  a  little 
smaller  than  the  former,  but  of  similar  form  and  habitat,  is 
gray,  with  fore  part  of  the  wings  black. 

The  Courlan  or  Crying-bird  (Aramus  scolopalceus],  some 
26  inches  long,  brown,  marked  with  white,  and  resembling 
the  Rails,  is  found  in  Florida. 

The  Flamingo  (Phcenicopterus  ruber),  four  feet  long,  with 
very  long  neck  and  legs,  and  a  somewhat  hook-shaped  bill, 
scarlet,  with  fore  part  of  the  wings  black,  is  scarcely  more 
than  a  straggler  into  Florida. 

The  White-fronted  Goose  (Anser  albifrons),  about  27 
inches  long;  back  dark  gray,  the  feathers  edged  with  lighter 
or  with  brownish;  under  parts  light-gray,  blotched  with 
black;  bill  pale  lake;  forehead,  pure  white — is  for  the  most 
part  a  western  species,  but  sparingly  found  to  the  eastward. 

The  Snow  Goose  (A.  hyperboreas\  some  30  inches  long,  a 
dull  white,  generally,  washed  with  reddish  about  the  head, 


614  GLEANINGS. 

the  young  lead-color  above,  is  extremely  boreal,  breeding 
about  the  straits  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and  is  more  common  in 
the  west  than  in  the  east  in  its  southern  migrations. 

The  Blue  Goose  (A.  ccerulescens),  nearly  the  size  of  the 
former,  and  about  the  same  form,  plumage  ashy-blue, 
varied  with  brown,  head,  tail-coverts  and  under  parts, 
white — should  be  regarded  as  a  distinct  species,  and  not 
merely  the  young  of  the  former.  This  has  been  placed  be- 
yond a  doubt  by  the  late  researches  of  Mr.  Wm.  Dutcher; 
and  Mr.  Fortiscue,  of  Hudson's  Bay,  says  that  the  two 
species  occupy  distinct  breeding  habitats  in  the  north. 

The  Brant  Goose  (Branta  bernicla)  is  some  2  feet  long, 
head  and  neck  black  to  the  breast,  a  patch  of  white  streaks 
on  the  middle  of  the  neck,  upper  tail-coverts,  white,  brown- 
ish-gray above,  and  lighter  underneath,  becoming  white 
toward  the  under  tail-coverts.  It  is  an  arctic  species,  visit- 
ing the  Atlantic  to  the  Southern  States  in  winter.  There  is 
a  darker  variety  called  the  Black  Brant,  rare  on  the  Atlantic, 
but  abundant  on  the  Pacific. 

The  Booby  Gannet  (Sula  fiber),  a  little  smaller  than  the 
Common  Gannet,  brown,  white  from  the  neck  down,  bill 
and  feet  yellow,  belongs  to  the  South  Atlantic  and  Gulf 
States. 

The  White  Pelican  (Pelecanus  trachyrhynchns),  about  5  feet 
long  and  8  or  9  feet  in  expanse,  is  white;  back  of  the  head 
and  breast,  yellow  ;  fore  part  of  the  wings,  black;  bill,  sack 
and  feet,  yellow.  Wintering  in  the  Southern  States,  and 
breeding  in  the  northwest,  it  is  but  accidental  on  the  North 
and  Middle  Atlantic.  The  Brown  Pelican  (P.fuscus)  is 
strictly  maritime,  found  on  the  South  Atlantic  and  Gulf 
Coasts,  and  in  California.  The  most  marked  feature  of 
these  peculiar  birds  is  the  large  sack  under  the  chin,  easily 
holding  several  quarts,  and  used  as  a  sort  of  dip-net  for 


GLEANINGS.  615 

catching  prey.  TKc  nest  of  the  Pelicans  is  generally  ar- 
ranged on  the  ground  near  the  water,  and  they  lay  large, 
white  eggs. 

The  Darter  or  Snake-bird  (Plotus  anhinga),  about  3  feet 
long,  is  "  glossy  greenish-black  ;  a  broad,  gray  wing-band 
formed  by  most  of  the  coverts;  lower  neck  behind  and 
scapulars  speckled  with  grayish-white;  tertiaries  striped 
with  silvery-ash;  tail,  pale-tipped;  filamentous  feathers  of 
neck,  purplish-ash;  the  female,  with  parts  of  the  head,  neck 
and  back,  brown,  the  throat  and  breast,  fawn-color,  sharply 
margined  with  rich  brown."  (Coues.)  It  is  an  odd-shaped 
bird,  and  belongs  to  the  Southern  States. 

Frigate  or  Man-of-War  Bird  (Tachypetes  aquilus),  some 
42  inches  long  and  8  feet  in  extent,  is  a  curious  shaped  bird, 
with  long,  slender,  hooked  bill,  and  pouch  under  the  chin; 
immense  spread  of  wings  and  long  forked  tail;  very  short 
legs  and  small  webbed  feet.  The  male  is  brownish-black, 
with  more  or  less  iridescence,  and  lighter  underneath;  the 
female,  white  on  the  neck  and  breast.  This  grand  bird,  of 
marvelous  powers  of  flight,  gregarious,  especially  in  the 
breeding  season,  when  it  nests  in  bushes  by  the  water,  lay- 
ing 2  or  3  greenish-white  eggs,  is  found  in  the  South  Atlan- 
tic and  Gulf  States,  and  in  the  tropics. 

The  Yellow-billed  Tropic  Bird  (Phaeton  flavirostris),  about 
the  size  of  a  small  Gull,  satiny-white,  rose-tinted  in  matur- 
ity; basal  half  of  many  of  the  shafts  and  fine  markings  in 
many  of  the  feathers,  black;  bill,  orange  or  yellow;  the 
small  webbed  feet,  black.  A  young  male  of  this  species, 
rare  even  on  the  Gulf  Coast,  was  brought  to  me  alive  in 
Orleans  Co.,  in  September,  1876.  It  was  picked  up  in  a 
state  of  exhaustion  in  a  clover  field,  after  a  heavy  storm 
from  the  southwest. 

The  Skua  Gulls  or  Jaegers,  genus  Stercorarius,  are  large, 


616  GLEANINGS. 

rapacious  Gulls  of  the  northern  seas;  hunters,  as  the  name 
Jaeger  implies,  with  hawk-like  bills;  long,  pointed  wings; 
dark  bodies,  lighter  underneath;  the  two  central  feathers 
finally  projecting  4-8  inches  beyond  the  otherwise  square 
tail.  They  breed  after  the  manner  of  the  Gulls,  in  high 
northern  regions,  wandering  south  in  winter  to  the  New 
England  or  Middle  States.  Those  are  the  Kua  (S.  skua), 
the  Pomarine  Jaeger  (S.  pomatorhinus),  Richardson's  Jaeger 
(S.  parasiticus),  or  the  Long-tailed  Jaeger  (S.  buffoni).  They 
vary  in  length,  from  2  feet  downward  to  several  inches  less. 
With  great  powers  of  flight,  they  chase  other  sea-birds  till 
they  either  drop  or  disgorge  their  prey,  and  thus  procure  a 
rather  disreputable  livelihood. 

The  Ivory  Gull  (Larus  eburneus),  about  18  inches  long  and 
pure  white  in  maturity,  is  an  extremely  arctic  species,  rarely 
reaching  the  United  States  in  winter. 

The  Fork-tailed  Gull  (Xema  sabinei),  some  13.50  long,  has 
the  common  coloring  of  the  Gulls,  except  that  the  head  is 
slate-colored,  and  there  is  a  black  color  around  the  neck, 
and  a  black  edge  from  the  shoulder  to  the  tip  of  the  wing. 
It  is  a  very  northerly  species,  rarely  reaching  New  York  in 
winter. 

The  Gull-billed  Tern  (Sterna  anglica],  about  13.50  long, 
the  mantle  extending  over  the  rump  and  tail,  may  be  known 
by  its  short,  thick,  black  bill.  It  is  found  from  New  Jersey 
southward  on  the  Atlantic. 

The  Caspian  Tern  (Sterna  caspid],  the  common  color  of 
the  Terns,  the  tail  less  forked,  known  by  its  great  size — 
some  20  inches  in  length — is  an  arctic  species,  but  has  re- 
cently been  found  breeding  off  the  coast  of  Virginia.  It 
winters  from  Massachusetts  southward. 

The  Royal  Tern  (Sterna  rigid),  some  19  inches  long,  the 
rich,  silvery  mantle  extending  over  the  tail,  is  an  abundant 


GLEANINGS.  617 

southern  species,  sometimes  reaching  New  Jersey.  The  2 
or  3  eggs,  2.72x1-72,  are  white  or  t}uffy,  spotted  and 
blotched  with  dark  brown  and  a  lighter  shade. 

The  Sandwich  Tern  (Sterna  cantiaca],  some  15.50  long, 
known  by  its  pale,  silvery  mantle,  and  its  black  bill  tipped 
with  yellow,  is  also  a  southern  species. 

The  Least  Tern  {Sterna  superciliaris),  only  8  or  9  inches 
long,  with  white  forehead,  and  light  pearly  mantle  extend- 
ing over  the  tail,  reaches  Massachusetts,  breeding  generally 
southward  on  the  Atlantic. 

The  Sooty  Tern  {Sterna  fultginosa),  some  16  inches 
long,  is  brownish-black;  under  parts,  outer  web  of  out- 
side tail-feathers  and  forehead,  white.  It  is  abundant  in 
Florida. 

The  Noddy  Tern  (Anous  stolidus\  about  16  inches  long, 
dark  colored,  darker  on  the  wings  and  tail,  lighter  on  the 
head  and  neck,  and  always  noticeable  by  means  of  its  white 
crown,  is  also  an  abundant  southern  species. 

Our  Wild  Pigeon  (Ectopistes  migrator -ins] ,  some  16  inches 
long,  is  dull  blue  above,  with  olivaceous  on  the  back;  dull 
red  below,  whitening  toward  the  under  tail-coverts;  neck 
with  a  fine  golden  and  ruby  iridescence;  black  spots  in  the 
wing-coverts;  tail  bluish-black  in  the  middle  and  white  or 
ashy  outside;  the  female  more  olivaceous  above,  and  dull 
grayish  beneath.  Once  astonishingly  abundant,  fairly 
darkening  the  air  in  its  migrations,  it  is  now  much  thinned 
out  in  Eastern  North  America. 

The  Pinnated  Grouse,  or  Prairie  Hen  (Cupidonia  cupido],  is 
19  inches  long  and  27  in  extent;  upper  parts  transversely 
marked  with  black  and  reddish-brown;  under  parts  with 
broad,  distinct  bars  of  dark  brown  and  white;  two  little 
wings  on  the  sides  of  the  neck,  under  which  are  two  round, 
inflated  sacks.  Female  lighter,  and  without  the  neck-wings 


618  GLEANINGS. 

and  inflated  sacks.  It  is  a  bird  of  our  western  prairies,, 
especially  about  the  upper  Mississippi.  A  few  are  still  found 
on  Martha's  Vineyard  and  in  Northwestern  Ohio. 

The  Semipalmated,  or  Ring  Plover  (.&gialitis  wilsonius\ 
some  7  inches  long,  is  ashy-brown  above,  with  dark  oliv- 
aceous shade;  white  beneath;  broad  bar  on  the  forehead 
and  another  on  the  breast,  black, — the  latter  grayish  brown 
in  the  young;  eye-lids  bright  orange;  the  short,  yellow  bill 
tipped  with  black;  the  yellowish  feet  noticeably  semipal- 
mate.  It  is  an  abundant  migrant  on  Niagara  River,  as  also 
on  the  New  England  Coast. 

The  last  three  species  were  overlooked  in  their  proper 
connection. 


ERRATA. 


The  Curlew  Sandpiper  (Tringa  subarquatd),  some  8.50  long  and  15.50 
in  extent,  dark  brown  above,  becoming  grayish  on  the  rump  and  wings, 
the  feathers  generally  edged  with  yellowish-red;  the  white  tail-coverts 
above  crossed  with  brown  bars;  secondaries,  with  white  tips;  underparts, 
yellowish-red, — is  a  European  species,  not  infrequently  found  on  the 
Atlantic  coast,  but  not  known  to  breed  on  this  continent.  (This  species 
was  overlooked  in  the  work.) 

Page  98,  line  18,  the  comma  should  be  inserted  after  the  word  above 
instead  of  after  the  word  feathers. 

Page  105,  line  2  from  bottom,  and  all  other  similar  instances,  the  single 
figures  mean  inches,  as  indicated  generally  in  the  work  by  the  decimal 
points,  or  by  the  word  inches. 

Page  120,  line  9,  for  clearing  read  cleaving. 

Page  129,  line  4  from  bottom,  for  light  read  twilight. 

Page  136,  line  8,  for  crown  read  brown. 

Page  148,  line  12,  the  word  the  should  be  inserted  before  the  word  cliff. 

Page  310,  line  18,  for  isles  read  aisles. 

Page  433,  line  6  from  bottom,  for  nesting  read  resting. 

Page  574,  line  18,  for  trampled  read  trample. 


"  I  consider  it  a  Magazine  which  every  true  ornithologist,  be  he  '  full- 
blooded,'  or  only  an  amateur,  should  have  at  hand;  and  I  will  endeavor 
to  extend  its  circulation  among  those  of  my  acquaintances  interested  in 
the  science." 

CHAS    B.  WILSON,  Colby  University,  Waterville,  Maine. 


THE  ORNITHOLOGIST  AND  OOLOGIST. 

VOL.  IX,  NO.  i,  JAN.,  1884. 
Commenced  a  New  Series,  Enlarged  to  Twelve  Pages  of 

ORIGINAL  MATTER. 


NOTICES    FROM    THE    PRESS. 


The  ORNITHOLOGIST  AND  OOLOGIST  is  the  title  of  a  magazine  published 
"by  Frank  B.  Webster,  at  Pawtucket,  R.  I.,  which  will  be  of  interest  to 
those  interested  in  ornithology. — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

The  cover  is  very  characteristic  as  well  as  artistic,  the  typographical 
execution  good,  and  the  matter  of  decided  value  to  all  students  of  natural 
history,  especially  bird  lovers. —  Worcester  Daily  Spy. 

All  interested  in  birds  and  birds'  eggs,  will  enjoy  this  magazine. —  The 
Journal,  Jacksonville,  III. 

A  specimen  number  was  issued  about  December  20,  1883,  and  contains 
the  usual  number  of  good  articles  and  notes.  There  is,  doubtless,  room 
and  need  for  a  distinctively  amateur  journal  like  this,  and  we  cordially 
wish  it  success. —  The  Auk,  January,  1884. 


ANNUAL  SUBSCRIPTION,  Commencing  with  Jan.  No.,  $1  PER  ANNUM. 

.     SPECIMEN  COPIES,   TEN  CENTS. 


FRANK  B,  WEBSTER,  Publisher,  Pawtucket,  R,  I, 

Subscriptions  at  the  rate  of  Five  Shillings  per  annum,  will  be  received  by 
Alfred  Cliff,  35  Osborne  Road,  Forest  Gate,  London,  England. 


INDEX. 


PAGE. 

Accentor,  Golden-crowned 312 

New  York 228 

Auk,  Great 516 

41    Razor-billed 516 

Avocet 609 

Bittern...  ...394 

"      Least 397 

Blackbird,  Cow 160 

44         Crow 112 

"         Red-winged 108 

Black  Martin 361 

Black  Skimmer 553 

Bluebill 186 

Bluebird 101 

Bobolink 288 

Brown  Creeper 87 

Bunting,  Snow -.  28 

44         Black-throated 584 

Towhee 576 

Buzzard,  Turkey 590 

Black 593 

Catbird 225 

Cedar  Bird 115 

Chat,  Yellow-breasted 582 

Chewink 576 

Chickadee 17 

Chimney  Swift 388 

Chuck-will's-widow 387 

Coot 405 

Cormorant,  Common 517 

"  Double-crested 520 

"  Florida 520 

Courlan 613 

Crane,  Whooping 613 

"      Sandhill 613 

Creeper,  Brown 87 

Crossbill,  Common 569 

14         White-winged 569 

Crow 60 

44     Fish 548 

Cuckoo,  Black-billed 384 

14        Yellow-billed 382 

Curlew,  Esquimaux 612 


PAGE. 

Curlew,  Hudsonian 612 

Long-billed 612 

Dabchick 172 

Darter 615 

Diver,  Black-throated 306 

44       Red-throated 306 

Dove,  Mourning 166 

"       White-headed 169 

"       Zenaida : 169 

"       Ground 169 

"       Key  West 169 

Dovekie  517 

Duck,  Barrow's  Golden-eye 463 

44       Buffle-headed 188 

Canvas-back 469 

44       Dusky 127 

"       Eider. 481 

"       Gadwall  or  Gray 473 

"       Golden-eye 462 

"       Harlequin 486 

"       King 485 

41       Labrador 486 

"       Long-tailed 464 

"       Old-Wife 464 

"       Pintail 180 

Red-headed 467 

44       Ring-necked 193 

"       Ruddy 471 

"       Scaup 186 

"       Shoveller ..474 

"       Summer 144 

"       Surf 478 

"       Velvet 480 

(  "       Wood 144 

Eagle,  White-headed ...  ...  453 

"       Golden 587 

Egret,  Great  White 597 

Little  White ...599 


Louisiana 
Reddish  . 


Finch,  Grass 155 

"       Lark..,  ...606 


622 


INDEX. 


Finch,  Purple 136 

"  Bachman's 606 

"  Painted 606 

Flamingo 618 

Flycatcher.  Great-crested 376 

Least 345 

Olive-sided 339 

Small  Green-crested 340 

Traill's 347 

Yellow-bellied 346 

Frigate 615 

Gallinule,  Common  492 

Purple 404 

Gannet 521 

"      Booby 614 

Gnat-catcher,  Blue-gray 581 

Godwit,  Great  Marbled 554 

"        Hudsonian 554 

Goldfinch 44 

Goosander. 408 

Goose,  Blue 614 

"       Brant 614 

"       Canada 119 

44       Snow 613 

"       White-fronted 613 

Goshawk 507 

Grakle,  Rusty •. 321 

Purple 112 

44        Bronzed 115 

"        Boat-tailed 115 

Grebe.,  Crested 179 

"       Horned 177 

"      Red-necked 179 

Grosbeak,  Blue 267 

"          Evening 267 

Cardinal 573 

Rose-breasted 264 

Pine 20 

Grouse,  Canada 499 

"        Pinnated 617 

"        Ruffed 48 

Guillemot,  Black 513 

44          Common '. 514 

44          Thick-billed 515 

Gull,  Black-backed 543 

Bonaparte 476 

Fork-tailed 616 

Glaucous 543 

Herring   423 

Ivory 616 

Kittiwake 544 

Laughing 535 

Ring-billed 427 

Skua 615 

White-winged 544 

Gyrfalcon 608 

Haglet  or  Hagdon 541 

Hawk,  Broad-winged 99 

"       Cooper's 348 

"       Duck 147 

«'       Harlan's ..  97 

"       Marsh 439 

"       Night, 383 

44       Pigeon 448 

44       Red-shouldered 98 

Red-tailed 91 


PAGE. 

Hawk,  Rough-legged 196 

Sharp-shinned 352 

Sparrow 204 

Swainson's 98 

Heron,  Florida 453 

Great  Blue 450 

44  Great  White 597 

"  Green 601 

Little  Blue 601 

Night 595 

Yellow-crowned  Night 597 

Hummingbird 363 

Ibis,  Glossy 612 

"  Scarlet 613 

"  White 013 

"  Wood 612 

Indigo  Bird  . .    374 


..616 
..61(5 
..616 
..  73 


Jaeger,  Arctic 

Parasitic. 

44       Pomarine 

Jay,  Blue    

'      Canada 493 

"     Florida 77 

Jerfalcon 608 

Killdeer ...562 

Kingbird 315 

"        Gray 31T 

Kingfisher ; 437 

Kinglet,  Golden-crowned 500 

"        Ruby-crowned 502 

Kite,  Black-shouldered 008 

'      Everglade C07 

44      Mississippi 607 

"     Swallow-tailed 608 


Lark,  Meadow 

"      Horned 

Linnet,  Pine 

Logcock 

Longspur,  Lapland 

Loon . . . 


84 

10 

41 

504 

£0 

...302 


Mallard 124 

Man-of-War  Bird 515 

Martin,  Black  or  Purple 361 

Merganser,  Hooded 412 

"          Red-breasted. 190 

Mockingbird 604 

Night  Hawk 883 

Noddy 515 

Nonpareil ' 600 

Nuthatch,  Brown-headed 13 

"  Red-bellied  73 

White-breasted 70 

Oriole,  Baltimore 240 

"      Orchard 245 

Osprey 545 

Oyster  Catcher 609 

Oven-bird   312 

Owl,  Acadian 39 

44     Barn 607 

"     Barred 510 

44     Great  Gray 509 


INDEX. 


623 


Owl,  Great  Horned 89 

Hawk 607 

Long-eared 35 

Richardson's 510 

Screech   36 

Short-eared 33 

Snowy 66 

Parroquet 607 

Partridge 48 

Pelican,  Brown 614 

White 614 

Petrel,  Fulmar. 542 

<k      Leach's 539 

"      Stormy 541 

"      Wilson's 541 

Pewee,  Least 345 

"      Wood 336 

Phalarope,  Northern 610 

"          Red 611 

"          Wilson's 610 

Phoebe 140 

Pigeon 616 

Plover,  Black-bellied 559 

Golden 560 

"       Field  or  Grass 564 

"       Piping 524 

"       Ring-neck 618 

"       Ruddy 461 

"       Wilson's 609 

Ptarmigan,  Rock 609 

Willow 609 

Puffin 515 

44      Tufted...  ...516 


Quail 


.  53 


Rail,  Black 443 

Clapper 401 

Carolina 441 

King 400 

Virginia ;399 

Yellow 443 

Raven 496 

Redbird,  Summer 263 

Redpoll,  Lesser 15 

Mealy 17 

Restart 372 

Robin 102 

Saddleback 543 

Sanderling 461 

Sandpiper,  Baird's 611 

Bartram's 564 

Bonaparte's 611 

Buff-breasted 612 

Curlew 623 

Least 555 

Pectoral , .  .460 

Purple 528 

Red-backed 611 

Red-breasted 612 

Semipalmated 555 

Solitary 435 

Spotted - 433 

Stilt 611 

...479 


Scoter. 
Shag 


..517 


PAGE. 

Shearwater 541 

Sooty 542 

Shore  Lark 10 

Shrike,  Loggerhead 170 

44       Northern 57 

44       White-rumped 169 

Sicklebill 612 

Skimmer,  Black 553 

Snakebird 615 

Snipe,  Red-breasted 460 

44       Wilson's 212 

Snowbird 81 

Sparrow,  Bay-winged 155  "*• 

44        Chipping 153 

Field 379 

44        Fox-colored 579 

Henslow's 294 

Ipswich 199 

Lincoln's 136 

Savanna 198 

Sea-side 549 

Sharp-tailed 550 

Song....'. 132 

Swamp 199 

Tree 43 

White-crowned 317 

White-throated 319 

Yellow-winged 293 

Spoonbill,  Roseate .' 613 

Stilt 610 

Swallow,  Bank 436 

Barn 194 

Eave 357 

44         Rough-winged 436 

44        White-bellied 157 

Swan,  American 295 

44      Trumpeter 302 

Swift,  Chimney 388 

Tanager,  Scarlet 259 

Teal,  Blue-winged 208 

14     Green-winged 211 

Tern,  Arctic 531 

Black 552 

Caspian 535,  616 

Common 531 

Forster's 533 

Gull-billed 616 

Least 617 

Noddy 617 

Royal 616 

Roseate 532 

Sandwich 617 

Sooty 617 

Thistlebird 44 

Thrasher 257 

Thrush,  Bicknell's 511 

Brown 257 

44        Golden-crowned 312 

Gray-cheeked 423 

44        Hermit 491 

44        Large-billed  Water 230 

44        Olive-backed 421 

Water 228 

"        Wilson's 309 

Wood S07 

Titlark,  Brown 461 

Titmouse,  Black-capped 17 


624 


INDEX. 


PAGE. 

Titmouse,  Carolina 20 

Hudson'sBay 20 

Tufted  575 

Tropic  Bird 615 

Turkey 608 

Turnstone 557 

Veery 309 

Vireo,  Philadelphia 248 

Red-eyed 250 

Solitary 253 

Warbling 246 

White-eyed 254 

Yellow-throated 249 

Vulture.  Turkey 590 

"        Black 593 

Warbler,  Audubon's 203 

44        Bachman's 605 

"        Bay-Breasted 326 

44        Black-and-White  Creeping... 275 

Black-and- Yellow .' 328 

44        Blackburnian 322 

Black-poll 489 

44        Black-throated  Blue 330 

44        Black-throated  Green  271 

44        Blue  winged  Yellow 417 

44        Blue  Yellow-backed 314 

44        Canada 279 

Cape  May 334 

Chestnut-sided 332 

"        Ccerulean 325 

44        Connecticut 606 

44        Golden-winged 368 

44        Hooded 342 

44        Kentcky 606 

Kirtland's 593 

Maryland  Yellow-throated ....  286 

44        Mourning .371 

"       Nashville 413 


PAGE. 

Warbler,  Orange-crowned 416 

Pine 606 

Prairie 551 

Prothonotary 004 

Swainson's 605 

Tennessee 416 

White-throated 370 

Wilson's  Black-cap 344 

Worm-eating 604 

Yellow 223 

Yellow  Red-poll 605 

Yellow-rumped 201 

Yellow-throated 605 

Wax-wing 40 

Whippoorwill. . .  387 

Whistler 462 

Widgeon 180 

Willet 526 

Woodcock 444 

Woodpecker,  Black-backed  Three-toed.507 

Downy 22 

Golden- Winged 77 

Hairy 32 

Ivory-billed 505 

Pileated 504 

Red-bellied 104 

Red-headed 86 

White-backed  Three-toed. 506 

Yellow-bellied 506 

Wren,  Bewick's 604 

Carolina 551 

Common 354 

Long-billed  Marsh 392 

Short-billed  Marsh 284 

Winter 281 

Yellowbird 44 

Yellow-shanks,  Large 216 

»•  Small...  ...219 


14  DAY  USE 


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